New Nuisances in Nerima
by Koala Kitty
Summary: Here it is, the fanfic I originally wanted to write. All the lovely Ranma teens are all grown up, and they have little angsty teens of their own. The little darlings can be quite entertaining, and we all know Nerima can never be a boring place. . .
1. New Romantic Entaglements

Disclaimer: Some of these characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi—Ranma, Akane, Ukyou, Ryouga, Akari, Genma, Kasumi, Sasuke, and the Kunos. There may be a few others sprinkled throughout. The rest, the younger generation, are mine.  
  
Two quick notes. First, this is the story I originally wanted to write with my other fanfic, but I wanted to write it sooner than I wanted to bring the story to this point. I'm lazy, you see. Since this is the same story, all rules that are going to be in the other story apply. Cologne will give Ranma water from the Spring of Drowned Man, and he'll get to use it. Unfortunately for him, that just means a reversal of the curse, so that he turns into a girl with hot water and a boy with cold water. The souls of Jusenkyo don't let people off that easy. Ranma's pretty happy with it, though. Secondly, Ayame means Iris. She isn't named that because it's similar to Akane, I promise.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"It isn't fair, Ucchan," Makoto complained, toying with his okonomiyaki. Ukyou watched the boy with worry. He looked just like his father, he had the same blue eyes, the same honest, carefree demeanor. The only thing the boy got from Akane Saotome was the hair, his hair was a far cry from the perfect matte black on Ranma. Ukyou figured she was about the only person who could tell Makoto and his twin apart. It was a matter of their choice of words. Makoto called her Ucchan, while his brother called her Kuonji-san. That was only fair, since Makoto was always in her shop and Mochio only ever came to fetch his brother.  
  
"Life seldom is, you know," she replied brightly, passing a cup of water to the teenager. "Not that I'm excusing your father, child, but the idea of an arranged marriage sort of came naturally to him. His arranged marriage turned out well, after all," she reminded the boy. He took a big bite of his okonomiyaki, a scowl on that handsome face. Too much like his father, she thought. Why was Ranma doing this to his children? Surely he of all people would. . .  
  
"Yeah, if that's what you call turning out well, don't show me a failed marriage. When Mom found out about the deal he made with Hibiki-san, she chased him around the house with a broom for a solid hour! A whole hour, screaming at him about arranged marriages and stealing our choices and all. It was awful. And you know, the whole time Mochio and Yori Hibiki were screaming at each other, too. I didn't even know my brother knew some of the words he was using! I'm telling you, Ucchan, you're lucky your parents were sane," he took a swig of the water. Ukyou turned away from him, hiding the bitter smile. She told herself to leave the past where it belonged.  
  
"So, have you two decided which twin gets the girl?" she said brightly, wiping down her counter as if she had nothing else to do. She really ought to toss him out and close her shop. It was well past time.  
  
"Nah. Dad only told us about it today. He said he'd meant to tell us for years, but the Hibiki's just took so long getting to our place and he wanted them there in person. . . I don't think I buy this whole thing about them not having a sense of direction. I think it's all a big sham," he announced, shoving the okonomiyaki in angrily now. Ukyou snorted.  
  
"Think what you like. I don't know about his daughter, but Ryouga-kun sure doesn't have any sense of direction. What is she like?" Ukyou asked. She hadn't seen Ryouga since. . . well, it had been quite a while. She hadn't even known he had a daughter, but she'd heard about his shotgun wedding with Akari. Apparently the little thing had died in childbirth. She knew Ryouga had lived with the Saotomes for about a year after the death of his wife, but she was avoiding them back then. She hadn't wanted to see Akane and Ranma and their children, a happy little family in a perfect little world. She hadn't had the strength to face it. How shameful.  
  
"She's pretty wild," he said thoughtlessly, dismissing her out of hand, "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Sure," Ukyou said, taking away his empty plate. She ought to make him wash it, the little rogue stayed after hours in her shop far too often.  
  
"You've known my dad a long, time, right? You knew him before he married my mom?" Makoto asked. Ukyou turned her head, remembering.  
  
"I've known him since we were children. This better be a good question," she warned. The boy tread lightly on scars, if he should happen to break them... there was a reason Ukyou lived alone. She had labored hard to form that scar tissue. She didn't want it broken.  
  
"Well, what happened between my mother and Hibiki-san? Where they lovers once?" he asked innocently. Ukyou dropped the plate. He continued, "Every time he looked at her, he'd blush and start stammering. He watched her every move. It was kind of creepy, seeing someone look at my mom like that."  
  
She stared at those big blue eyes for a long time. At long last she laughed, a good, loud, round laugh.  
  
"Not that your mother knew of, no," she said at long last. The boy blinked at her. She sighed, thinking she could not possibly have ever been as young as him. By the time she was sixteen she'd had her own shop, hadn't she? The Saotome children were so innocent. So pure. Like their father had been. She only hoped they didn't ruin as many lives.  
  
"Your father turns into a woman when he gets wet, doesn't he?" she asked. Makoto blinked at her again.  
  
"Well, yes, but we don't talk about that much. And its only when he gets wet with hot water. He takes cold baths just so he can avoid it, but I dropped tea on his lap once and he explained it to me," Makoto stammered. The memory was burned into his brain, but he desperately wanted to forget it. He had brought tea to his parents while they trained in the dojo, and his father had been wearing only his pants. . . he shuddered at the memory.  
  
"He explained Jusenkyo to you?" Ukyou asked. The boy nodded. "Well, Ryouga also fell into a spring at Jusenkyo, and he fell in because your father knocked him in on accident. They used to be great romantic rivals, and great friends," Ukyou paused, thinking how best she could explain it. "You see, your mother had this pet black pig. She called it P-chan and it slept with her, it watched her undress, it followed her into the girl's locker room. Ryouga's curse was to become a little black pig," she explained. She watched as realization dawned on Makoto's face.  
  
"So Hibiki-san knew her pet pig! Was he good friends with it?" he asked. Ukyou sighed. He was really much, much too similar to his father.  
  
"Ryouga-kun was her pet pig, idiot," she snapped. Makoto's eyes grew wide.  
  
"He slept with my mom?" he asked incredulously. Ukyou smirked. If the child only knew the half of what had gone on during his parents' engagement. . . he'd die of mortification.  
  
"Well, yes. And Ranch. . . your father was bitterly jealous. Your mother never knew why he was so blasted jealous of a pet, but then. . ." she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "your mother found out. Ryouga left then. He settled down with Yori's mother and had Yori." Ukyou shook her cleaning rag at Makoto. "That's enough ancient history for you, young man. Get out of my shop, we're closed," she announced. Makoto slid off his bar stool and smiled at her gratefully.  
  
"Thanks for letting me in so late, Ucchan," he said, and was gone. Ukyou leaned against her counter, watching him go. He was just so like his father.  
  


* * *

  
"Ayame, would you help your baby brother with his homework?" Akane Saotome asked, smiling at her daughter. Ayame sighed, but nodded. Her hair, which fell to her waist, was the same dark blue as her mother's. It swirled around her as she turned to face her glaring little brother.  
  
"I am not a baby!" he shouted after his mother, but she was already in the kitchen cleaning. Ayame cocked an eyebrow at him.  
  
"So, Takeo, you're a man? Wouldn't that make you eligible to marry the lovely Yori Hibiki?" she asked. Takeo regarded her in abject horror. Ayame smiled. She hadn't thought the Lost Girl was all that bad, a little rough maybe but. . . the way her brothers had reacted she would have thought the girl was Godzilla. So she wasn't dainty and small-boned. Big deal.  
  
"I take it all back, I'm a child." He glared at her again, a sudden intensity flaming in his eyes. "I'm a child who needs NO HELP with his math! Do you understand? We do NOT need to work on math!" he shouted. Ayame sighed. Always the same routine. Why couldn't her mother take care of the blasted homework? Her mother didn't have her own homework to do, all she had to do was manage a household and a dojo. She didn't even have to cook. The twins did all the cooking.  
  
"If you don't settle down and do your work, I'll punt you into next week," she said calmly. She was so engrossed in staring down her youngest brother that she didn't even notice someone else coming into the room.  
  
"I'll help," Goro said behind her, and Ayame jumped. She glared at the young man standing in her doorway. He was tall and broad, a giant leaning against her doorframe. She looked him up and down. Dirty, she saw, from chores.  
  
"I don't need your help," she said stiffly. Goro shrugged and walked away. Everything her family did was so blasted old-fashioned. Her father arranged marriages for his children. Her mother only wore skirts, except when she was practicing in the dojo. Most irritating to Ayame, if a student had no place to stay, the Saotome household was always open. Goro had been staying with them for almost two months now.  
  
"What are you staring at, Ayame?" Takeo asked scornfully. Ayame realized, too late, that she had been watching Goro walk down the hallway. She scowled at her brother, but she never got a chance to answer.  
  
"You marry the she-devil then! I wish you a happy future full of monstrously large children! They'll probably be hairy and smelly too, just like your beloved!" a deep voice yelled. Ayame closed her eyes, praying for patience. The twins were home.  
  
"Would you quit overreacting?" one yelled back. That would be Makoto. Mochio never reconciled. Well, it was rare.  
  
"No, you left me alone to deal with dad and that she-devil! You ran off to stuff your fat face, while I had to sit and listen to them all preaching about family honor and responsibility!" Mochio yelled back. Ayame walked out into the main hallway to see the twins fight. She watched them yell back and forth.  
  
::Fifteen years under the same roof as them, and that's still uncanny,:: she thought, watching them shout. It looked like someone was shouting at his mirror. She leaned against the stairs, watching them for a moment.  
  
"Boys," she said quietly. They ignored her. She said it again, louder. After a few moments, she took off her shoe and threw it at the nearest twin, Mochio. He turned to glare at her.  
  
"Stay out of it unless Dad is forcing YOU to marry some demon," Mochio growled, throwing her shoe back at her. She smiled at him, an angelic smile she'd learned from her Aunt Kasumi.  
  
"The demon in question is in the bathroom. She and her father will be staying a while. And I bet she heard every word," Ayame informed them. She walked back into the dining room to help the most normal of her brothers.  
  


* * *

  
Koemi Kuno gazed into the fires. They told her nothing. She gazed into them and willed the future to come to her. The future refused. The future laughed at her and made snide remarks.  
  
Koemi was above such petty things as Tarot cards or crystal balls. She was however, gifted. All Kunos are gifted in some manner. Her gift was the future. All of the future belonged to her, and she belonged to it. She was a slave to the fires when she watched them. Knowing the future means the responsibility of changing it, if change must occur.  
  
A face formed in the fire, and she smiled. The smile was small, tight and unfeeling. The face forming was smiling back at her, an ugly face, an inhuman face. After a few moments she realized she was seeing the face of a bird. That was ridiculous. What significance did the bird have?  
  
Someone pounded at the door, and the firebird disappeared. Koemi's hand flitted to the bokkan that never strayed far from her side. Her fingers closed around the smooth wooden handle, and she rose to her feet. She stepped to the door, holding the wooden sword out in front of her.  
  
She slid the door open, slashing with her bokkan as it opened. She stopped the dulled blade a hair's width away from the neck of the man, knowing the air pressure from her stroke would bruise him. The stranger did not flinch.  
  
Dangerous, this one. She regarded him coolly, beginning with the poorly concealed gun tucked in his belt. He was lanky, dressed in denim from head to toe. His hair was long and stringy, hanging in his face, and his eyes were a most disconcerting pale grey. She pressed the blade against the fresh bruise and he blinked. He didn't wince, he blinked. He was surprised.  
  
That was good.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked evenly. He looked her up and down, his eyes raking over the formal kimono and long black hair. She pressed the blade harder.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked, more firmly. He grinned at her. His smile was feral, sudden, and obviously heartfelt. He was beginning to frighten her.  
  
"I'm Roka, Yizume Roka. Is your mother home?" he asked. His voice was sweet, low, and melodic. Surprise surprise. She narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on her sword imperceptibly. She thought, briefly, of telling him her mother preferred to live as far from her father as humanly possible, but she refrained.  
  
"Why do you ask? Why have you come to my house?" she asked. His smile never faded.  
  
"I am an old friend of Kodachi Kuno. I was. . . hoping to catch her at home," he said. Koemi's eyes narrowed further.  
  
"My aunt has been married a long time, Yizume-san. She lives in Switzerland now, with her husband and her six ugly brats," Koemi said bitterly. If he was a friend of that old, twisted, bitter woman, she wanted nothing to do with him. All her childhood Aunt Kodachi had humiliated her, called her a bastard daughter. She wasn't. She'd looked it up, found the marriage license.  
  
She was, however, unwanted. Her father, her mother, and her aunt had all made that abundantly clear. She knew her mother never mourned for the loss of her. She'd seen it in the fires.  
  
"I am aware, I had hoped she kept contact with her brother," Roka said quickly. Too quickly. The man was hiding something. Koemi glared at him openly. He only smiled back. He had a young man's smile, but his face was old. Old enough to know her aunt. Koemi readied her hand for the strike. This man, this man who intruded on her family estate carrying a weapon, he was not to be trusted.  
  
"Koemi! Why do you threaten this man?" an old and shaking voice asked her. Her eyes grew wide as her focus shifted from Roka to her old family servant, Sasuke. Sasuke stood out in the cool clear night, his round little face determined.  
  
"He carries a firearm and claims to know Kodachi," she answered, her voice strong and firm. Her eyes were fixed on Sasuke, pleading. He must not ask her to compromise her safety. He wouldn't, would he?  
  
"Do not threaten a guest! If he knows a Kuno, he must be treated as a guest," Sasuke admonished. Koemi, tears glittering in her eyes, lowered her sword. Sasuke had practically raised her, she could deny him nothing. Sasuke hopped up to the stranger, his body a mass of that strange clumsy quickness he'd always exhibited. He slipped the firearm from the man's belt and stepped back with it.  
  
"I apologize my Master Kuno could not be here to greet you," Sasuke said. Koemi silently willed him to keep his mouth shut. He didn't. "The master is away on business in Hawaii. I'm sure he would have loved to greet the friend of his beloved sister."  
  
"Beloved. Ha," Koemi muttered. She returned her gaze to the stranger. He was staring past her, past the door, into. . .  
  
He was staring into the fires. Koemi turned quickly, trying to see what he could see. The fire blew out in an instant, as if a gale had ripped it to shreds. A fine trembling crept into her small shoulders. She looked at the stranger in fear. He just smiled up at her. Sasuke was speaking, but she couldn't make out the words.  
  
The only words she could formulate in her mind were; This man, this man has my gift! He is not to be trusted.  
  


* * *

  
"Crying?" Ayame said to herself, trudging past the bathroom. There it was, the unmistakable sound of sobs. She paused outside the door. She was tired, she was bruised, she was frustrated. Her mother insisted she train two hours a night after homework, whether she wanted to learn or not. Mochio had gotten her good only once, but it still hurt. She wasn't up for comforting.  
Yet, there it was. Someone was crying in the bathroom. Hibiki-san was learning Shogi from Grandfather Panda, mom and dad were still in the dojo with the twins, and Takeo had, supposedly, gone to bed a long time ago.  
  
Which left Yori. Ayame wasn't sure she could handle Yori. When they'd met earlier in the evening, the strange girl had looked at her in such obvious disgust Ayame shrank back. She wasn't even sure the Lost Girl would welcome her company.  
  
::Well,:: she told herself, taking a deep breath, ::If I can beat both my brothers at once, surely this Hibiki girl won't pose a threat.:: With that reassuring idea, she opened the door.  
  
A brush flew at her head. Ayame caught it as it sailed past her, and blinked at the offending object. Since when did objects attack her? She looked further into the room, and saw Yuri, fully dressed, crying in front of a mirror. There were sticks and leaves all around her, and a dead, mangled squirrel off to her right. Ayame regarded the scene with horror.  
  
"Get out!" Yori sobbed, standing up and clenching her fists. Ayame put her hands on her hips and glared at the larger girl. They glowered at each other for a while. Ayame was the first to break the silence, keeping her gaze locked firmly on Yori.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere, I want to take a bath. Besides, I'm not in the habit of letting my guests cry all night in the bathroom. It will wake Takeo," she said gruffly. She pointed at the dead squirrel. "And just where did THAT come from?" she asked. Yori burst into tears and sat down hard.  
  
"I...I.... I was trying to brush my hair and all of this just came out!" she wailed. Ayame looked at her in horror. She'd just assumed it was curly and bunched up. . .  
  
"Shh, shh, shh," she said soothingly. She took a slow step towards Yori, then another. When she could touch the sobbing girl she gently ran her fingernails up and down the girl's shoulders. It helped soothe Aunt Kasumi's brood, she figured it might work on teens too. Her plan turned out well. Yori took a few last shuddering sobs, then she was relatively quiet.  
  
"Don't worry a bit. With someone else to help you, your hair will just fall into place," Ayame said with an enthusiasm she didn't feel. She glared at the mass of dark hair and, in her mind, boasted she could vanquish the demons within it. "This may hurt a bit, though," she warned. Yori stiffened.  
  
"I can take pain. It's frustration I can't deal with," she announced. Ayame pulled back a section of her hair, from the front, and began by brushing about three inches from the bottom. She worked her way up, bottom to top, humming as she worked. Yori stayed silent, only flinching every once in a while.  
  
"You really have lovely hair," she told her. Yori stiffened and began to pull away. Ayame tugged at her hair, and she fell back to where she was. "You aren't going anywhere until I finish this," she announced. Yori growled.  
  
"I thought you wanted to take a bath," she snarled. Ayame pulled at an especially hard knot, and a rock fell out. The knot eased. What had this girl been sleeping on?  
  
"It can wait. Hey!" she said, as if the idea was just occurring to her, "You ought to come with us to school tomorrow. It's the last day, so we won't be doing any work. It'll be fun, you can meet people before we let out for summer and. . ."  
  
"Don't make fun of me!" Yori cried. She pulled away, and the brush clattered to the ground. Ayame stared at her in amazement. She was shaking, head to foot.  
  
"You popular types with your make-up and your blasted social graces!" she cried, tears forming in her eyes again. "I just knew it, I knew the second I looked at you. . ."  
  
"Knew what?" Ayame shouted, surging to her feet. All around the girls lay stones, twigs, and a few vole skeletons. Yori's hair was only a little more than half-brushed, and she looked wilder than ever with part of her subdued.  
  
"That all you ever want or think about is attracting boys! That you cringe whenever you see someone different than you! You live in a dojo, but I bet you're too damn prissy to learn a single kata!" she screamed. Ayame stared at her. She seriously considered knocking Yori's head in. How dare she, how dare she...  
  
"I try to help you, and this is how you repay me? You're a blasted ingrate!" Ayame snarled back. Yori drew back her hand for a punch. Ayame saw it coming with plenty of time. She could beat the twins, she could beat her mom, she'd even, once or twice, beat her dad. Speed is the key, and she had her father's speed. If this little ingrate thought, for one second...  
  
Ayame stepped inside the blow and picked Yori up by the throat. She held her there, suspended, gasping for air. Her father never used these techniques, but her grandfather and Happosai did. They'd taught her the true implications of Anything-Goes Martial Arts. She didn't like it, but she knew it.  
  
"Do not challenge me," she said quietly. She lowered Yori and released her. To her credit, Yori didn't sputter, or scream, or start sobbing again. She only looked at Ayame in utter shock.  
  
"But you're smaller than me," she said. Ayame smiled.  
  
"Faster, too. Are you going to let me finish with that hair, or what?" she asked, trying to let the tension flow from her shoulders. The night had been too long. Yori, amazingly, sat down quite docilely and let Ayame continue brushing her hair.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said at ling last. Ayame snorted.  
  
"You ought to be. Apology accepted," she said. Yori took a deep breath. "Stop moving."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Oh, shut up. Are you coming to school with me tomorrow or not?" she asked, her frustration finally leaking through. Usually she had more control than this. On the other hand, usually she didn't have to comb through a forest's worth of garbage just to get to friendly terms with someone.  
  
"But I don't have a uniform," Yori replied, her voice very quiet. Ayame sighed.  
  
"You can borrow my spare," she said, trying not to lose her patience again. Bad things happened when she let her temper go. Once, she'd nearly killed Mochio when he'd made her tear her favorite skirt. He'd had to stay in the hospital for a whole month.  
  
"But you're so much smaller than me, how will I. . ."  
  
"We'll figure something out. Don't you worry," Ayame assured her. She finished Yori's hair and began to brush through all of it again. Her hair was thick and soft, a very dark shade of brown. Ayame resisted the urge to play with it.  
  
"Is it done?" Yori asked, her voice soft. Ayame stared at her.  
  
"Yeah. I take it you're going to be nice to me now that you know I can kick your ass?" she said, without preamble. Yori turned to look at her, blushing slightly.  
  
"It's more that I know now you're not the kind of girl I thought you were. That type would never learn to fight," she said. Ayame grunted, surveying her handiwork. Yori's hair was still fizzy from so much neglect, but she knew how to remedy that.  
  
"Well, I'm not terribly fond of fighting, but I am pretty good at it. I'm afraid, you see. I put my brother into the hospital once," she confessed.  
  
"Which brother?" Yori asked.  
  
"Mochio," Ayame replied. Yori's mouth spread into a grim smile.  
  
"I'm sure he deserved it," she whispered. Ayame giggled.  
  
"He might have," she replied. She glanced at her watch and cursed. "Chikushou! Hey, you haven't had a bath yet, have you?" she asked. Yori shook her head. "Let's hurry up and get washed. It'll be morning before you know it."  
  


* * *

  
"Wake up, wake up!" Ayame shouted at Yori. Yori sat up abruptly, her hand going to her side. She blinked, and looked down at her hand.  
  
"My staff is gone," she said, musingly. Ayame pulled her up out of bed.  
  
"Of course it is, you dolt. Get up and put this on, we're going to be late for school!" Ayame snapped, tossing a bundle of blue cloth at Yori's head. Yori watched her run from the room, dazed. She looked down at the bundle of cloth, and her eyes widened.  
  
"I hate skirts!" she shouted.  
  
"You're too tall for my pants! At least that junk is the same color as our uniforms!" Ayame yelled back, already in another part of the house. Yori looked for her own clothing, and found it lying by the mat she was sleeping on. She'd gotten this whole room to herself, her father had been sent to sleep in Goro's room. She grabbed her bra off the top of the pile of clean clothes and started getting dressed. ::Akane-san must have done laundry,:: she thought.  
  
The pile of clothes happened to be a light blue peasant blouse and a dark blue skirt. The skirt was too tight, it pinched in at her waist instead of falling to her hips. The shirt was too tight across the shoulders and chest. Yori scowled down at herself.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ayame cried, bursting into her room. Without further preamble, she attacked Yori's hair. Within seconds, it was all pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head, with shorter strands hanging in her face. She brushed them aside, and turned to glare at the shorter girl. Before she could say anything, however, a pair of socks was thrust in her face.  
  
"Your legs look much better today. They really aren't so bad, shaved," Ayame smiled. Yori accepted the socks, blushing. The night before Ayame had almost fainted at the sight of her legs, and taught her how to shave. She'd never done it before. She was leery of it at first, but Ayame was so damned persuasive. . .  
  
"AYAME!" a deep voice thundered downstairs. Ayame grinned at her and ran off. Yori hopped on first one foot, then the other, trying to get her socks on. She jogged down the stairs and into the bathroom, wondering how she'd ever agreed to go to the stupid school in the first place. . .  
  
Then she saw the mirror. She stopped in her tracks, fascinated. She hadn't seen her own reflection much before, but now... now it was like a different person was staring back at her. She was still big, but she looked. . . different. Maybe too different. She wasn't sure yet whether she liked this or not.  
  
"YOOOORIIII!" Ayame yelled. Startled out of her reverie, she used the bathroom quickly and ran back out. Ayame was standing there, tapping her toes. She shoved a piece of toast in Yori's hand as she walked by.  
  
"Take your lunches," a deep voice ordered. Saotome-san was leaning by the doorway, holding out two little wrapped boxes. Ayame took them and kissed her father on the cheek.  
  
"Thank you, Papa," she smiled, using the American term. He winked at her.  
  
"Be careful, your mother made those," he said to her. She giggled and ran out the door.  
  
"I heard that, Ranma!" Akane-san yelled as Yori ran out after Ayame. She shoved some of the toast in her mouth. Ayame tossed the lunches in the first bushes she saw.  
  
"We may want that!" Yori said reproachfully through a mouth full of toast. Ayame laughed at her.  
  
"We won't, trust me. We'll get some lunch from my friends, they always bring more than enough," Ayame assured her. Yori sighed, trying not to think about the strange feel of the skirt flapping around her legs. She couldn't even remember the last time she wore a skirt. So far, she didn't like it. She planned on changing right back into her old clothes when she got to the Saotome house. . . even if they were hideous. She frowned, thinking of all the insults Mochio had thrown at her.  
  
"I hope your brother oversleeps and gets detention," she said grimly. Ayame gave her a strange look.  
  
"They left before we did. The twins like to walk Koemi Kuno to school."  
  


* * *

  
"Koemi-san!" someone cried. Koemi turned in the direction of the cry. Two dark blue heads were racing towards her. She sighed. She thought she was leaving too early for the twins to catch her. Apparently she was wrong. They ran toward her, their hair, eyes, uniforms, lunch boxes . . . everything was blue. She smoothed her hair and began walking toward school.  
  
"Koemi-san, wait up!" one of them cried. She didn't but he caught up to her anyway. She fixed him with a cold eye, and he grinned back. She really, really wasn't up to face the blue twins.  
  
"If it isn't Blue Boys one and two," she said as the second twin caught up to her. They walked one on each side of her, like prison guards.  
  
"That's good! Are you a poet in secret?" Blue Boy one asked. She rolled her brown eyes.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Makoto," she sighed. He frowned at her, his expression dimming.  
  
"I'm Mochio," he told her. She shrugged. They were equally irritating, why differentiate?  
  
"You look tired," Makoto noted, from her other side. She nodded.  
  
"I stayed up late," she informed him. She let them guess, loudly and incorrectly, what had kept her up. She let them argue, without comment, all the way to school. She certainly wasn't going to tell the twins about Roka. They might try to set up a guard outside her house or something equally ridiculous. What she looked forward most to in the summer was being rid of them.  
  
Once they were in the school yard, she found a tree to sit under. They followed her, bickering about something else now. She was used to tuning them out. She smoothed her skirts and waited for the morning to drag on. She didn't want to be at school. On the other hand, she didn't want to sit in the house all day with Roka. There was no telling what he might do. On the other hand, she didn't want to leave him alone to conceive of mischief.  
  
She'd tossed the problem around in her head all night, as she sat up with her katana, not her bokkan, next to her. She'd watched the fires all night, praying for some clue. The bastard had blocked her second sight, she was sure of it. He didn't want her to know anything about him. That worried her, it worried her a lot.  
  
If the Idiot Twins weren't so prone to fighting each other, she might even have asked them to help her out.  
  
Ten minutes to the bell. She gazed out over the busy schoolyard. Blue, blue everywhere. She hated the color blue. Yellow, she decided, if ever she became superintendent of a school she'd make everyone wear yellow.  
  
" . . . . Ayame sure runs slow," Makoto noted. The name brought her back out of her head and into their conversation. She looked toward the gates, and there she was. Ayame Saotome was running towards them, her long dark hair streaming out behind her. Ayame thought she could forgive the color blue, of all of it were that exact shade. She watched Ayame's school uniform whipping around her legs, and she smiled. There she was, the beautiful Ayame, strong and kind.  
  
Then she noticed the girl running beside her.  
  
The stranger wore blue, of course, but not a school uniform. Her hair was tucked back, with only a few stray strands flying back from her face. She ran with a natural grace, as if most of her life were spent running. Koemi noticed with a sinking feeling that she was very pretty, if a trifle on the big side. She was everything Koemi was not, where Koemi was delicate she was strong.  
  
"Who is your sister's friend?" she asked the nearest twin. He was also staring at the new girl.  
  
"I have no idea," he admitted truthfully. "Hey sis! Slow down, you have a few minutes," he called out. Ayame saw them, and smiled. She waved at her brothers, apparently oblivious to the lady on the grass. Koemi thought her heart would break. She turned her gaze to the safer girl, the stranger. What se saw surprised her. The stranger was watching the twins with an undisguised hatred.  
  
"Hey, Ayame, who's your friend?" one of the twins asked. The stranger glared at him, putting one hand on her strong, wide hip.  
  
"You're a blind idiot, Mochio," she snapped. The twin she'd snapped at blinked at her.  
  
"You can tell us apart, just like that?" he asked, somewhat awed. She snorted in derision.  
  
"Of course," she said airily, "And a good thing too, I wouldn't put any dirty trick past you two."  
  
"You're Yori!" the twin who had not spoken before gasped. She gave him a small, tight smile.  
  
"Bingo. Smart lad, Makoto," she said, her voice not quite as bitter. It was then Mochio's turn to snort in derision.  
  
"Why bring her on the last day of school, sis? I bet the big dumb lug can't even read," he announced. The big dumb lug proceeded to slap him across the face. Hard. She left a big red print of her hand behind.  
  
"I thought she might meet some friendly people. You know, people who don't insult her at every turn?" Ayame answered, her tone sardonic. She led Yori away, off into the building. Mochio swore and walked after them, not hurrying, not catching up, just going to class. Koemi turned to Makoto.  
  
"Who is that?" she asked, keeping her tone level. Makoto looked at her as if he'd never seen her before, then shook his head as if to dispel a dream.  
  
"Oh, our dad and her dad made some deal a long time ago. Supposedly one of us twins has to marry her, but I don't think mom will stand for it. She's against arranged marriages, after all," he said absently. Koemi took a deep, relieved breath. Her Ayame had not found someone else. It would have been her own fault if she had, Koemi was too much of a coward to admit her feelings.  
  
She only realized then that the entire morning, Ayame had not even acknowledged her presence. 


	2. Ranma Admits the Truth

Disclaimer: Some of these characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi—Ranma, Akane, Ukyou, Ryouga, Akari, Genma, Kasumi, Sasuke, and the Kunos. There may be a few others sprinkled throughout. The rest, the younger generation, are mine.  
  
Two quick notes. First, this is the story I originally wanted to write with my other fanfic, but I wanted to write it sooner than I wanted to bring the story to this point. I'm lazy, you see. Since this is the same story, all rules that are going to be in the other story apply. Cologne will give Ranma water from the Spring of Drowned Man, and he'll get to use it. Unfortunately for him, that just means a reversal of the curse, so that he turns into a girl with hot water and a boy with cold water. The souls of Jusenkyo don't let people off that easy. Ranma's pretty happy with it, though. Secondly, Ayame means Iris. She isn't named that because it's similar to Akane, I promise.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Koemi was sure upset this morning," Makoto grimaced, taking the first bite of the lunch his mother had packed for him. Did she really have to use garlic in everything? He looked up at his twin, who hadn't touched his lunch. Mochio was staring at a big group of girls across the courtyard, his face set into a dismal glare. Makoto followed his brother's eyes, and saw their sister. Yori was next to her, smiling shyly as the gaggle of girls fussed over her, giving her food. Makoto put his own lunch down, wishing they could be as nice to him.  
  
"What are you looking at?" he asked at last, completely exasperated. Mochio looked back at him as if startled, and picked up a rice ball.  
  
"Nothing," he grumbled, shoving it into his mouth. He chewed it thoughtfully, then took a big swig of soda. "They aren't so bad today, just a little too salty."  
  
"NOW you want to talk to me," Makoto said in disgust. He picked up his own rice ball and sniffed it. Having decided it wasn't going to start moving on its own, he took a bite. "What's so blasted interesting about Ayame?" he asked through a mouthful of food. Mochio glared down at the lunch on his lap.  
  
"As I was saying, Koeko looked particularly upset today," Makoto continued, taking a deep breath. He used the nickname when she wasn't around to hear him, when she wasn't around to get offended. He let it roll across his tongue, dreaming for an instant that he could call her that, hold her close, make her smile. Mochio rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well, if she wanted to talk to us about it, she would have," he snapped. Makoto blinked at him for a few moments, then, abashed, took another bite of his rice ball. Mochio, seeing his twin's expression turn sour, took a deep breath and counted to ten.  
  
"I was just thinking about Yori," he admitted. His brother's expression brightened. At least he understood this source of frustration.  
  
"Yeah, she's an odd one. She isn't half bad, cleaned up. Not that it's fair," he added, seeing Mochio start to twitch around the eyes. "It's only that, now that I see her like that, she's just another girl. She isn't the she-devil come from the wilderness to ruin our lives," he said theatrically, making what he thought was a she-devil face. Mochio rolled his eyes and shoved his food in his mouth.  
  
"I can feel it, Makochan," he said softly. His twin's eyes grew wide. They hadn't used nicknames since. . . since they were practically infants. Mochio's face was solemn as he swallowed the rice. He wouldn't meet Makoto's eyes. "I can feel the future pressing against my eyes when I look at her, a whole lifetime spent fighting with that woman, and it's scaring me. I just know it'll end up being me. I'm. . . I'm trapped," he said softly. He stood and left, taking his uneaten lunch with him. Makoto stared after his brother.  
  
"It isn't as if they'd really make you marry her!" he called after Mochio. Mochio waved back at him without turning around. Makoto's temper rose, and he clenched the almost-empty soda can until it crushed in his hand, sending sharp shards of tin and fizzing liquid into his palm.  
  
"They wouldn't," he seethed, staring after his brother. He looked over to Yori with a dawning apprehension. For the first time, he thought about what it would be like to be forced to marry someone. He scowled at the giggling girls, finally understanding Mochio's anger.  
  
______________-------------------_______________  
  
"You're so clever, Yori-kun!" Mori giggled. "Do you really speak all those languages?"  
  
"Yes," Yori admitted quietly, blushing. If anyone had told her she'd actually like these pretty, smiling, tiny girls. . . but they were just so NICE. . . "I know French, and English, two of the Chinese dialects of course, Korean, Portuguese, and I speak a little German. Just a little, though," she smiled. She knew she was bragging, but she couldn't help it. They were all smiling at her, encouraging. . . "It's a good thing, too, since I've wandered all over," she added, hoping that made her sound more modest. Mori, Shika, and Kaede all giggled. Ayame stayed silent, smiling as she watched all of them. ::She's more like a mother watching her kids than a teenager talking with friends,:: Yori realized.  
  
"What was it like? Was it like the old movies?" Shika asked, her eyes sparkling. Yori was a little taken back by the question, since she'd never seen a movie. She looked at Ayame for some indication of what she should answer, but none came.  
  
"I, ah, I... I don't know about the movies, but it was pretty wonderful," she sighed. She wanted to be wandering again! She could be on the road with her father again, simply seeing all the beautiful countries. The entire sky had belonged to them, every blade of grass, every grain of sand, every drop of ocean. Her father the pig, her father the cursed man. He's blamed Ayame's father for that curse, said he was the reason they must wander forever.  
  
If there was such hatred in him for Ranma Saotome, why arrange this marriage? Why come live with them? Or. . . but no, there had never been hatred in his eyes when he spoke of Ranma Saotome. Rather, the times he spoke of him were the only times he'd ever seemed old to her. And once, only once, had he ever mentioned Akane Saotome. She was no fool, she'd seen the way her father watched her.  
  
So that was one more thing Saotome had stolen from her father. For that matter, it was one more thing he'd stolen from her. If her mother had been Akane, who obviously could survive giving birth, she'd have had a mother. Her life would have been different, very different. Would it have been better?  
  
"Why have you come into town, Yori-kun? Why are you staying at the dojo?" Mori asked. Yori snapped out of her reverie and stared at the freckles on Mori's nose. What had she said? She'd asked something, but. . .  
  
"Yori's father and my father have arranged for her to marry one of my brothers," Ayame said quietly Yori turned bright red. That was what Mori had asked! Why, why oh why had Ayame told them the truth? She could have lied just a little bit. . . Yori's eyes caught Mochio's as he walked past the group, and both turned away, closing their eyes and scowling.  
  
"Is that true, Yori? An arranged marriage?" Shika shrieked. Mori dropped the bean bun she'd been eating. Only Kaede continued stoically.  
  
"That's absolutely barbaric," Kaede announced, swallowing. Ayame grinned at Yori, and her heart sank. Had Ayame been making fun of her the entire time? Had she just introduced her to her friends for some variety, a new toy to play with, a new life to examine? Yori pushed the thought out of her mind violently. Her father had told her once that if you lose to a person, you have a bond with them. That bond is unbreakable, it is the bond of one whose life must always be measured against another's. Until she beat Ayame in a fair fight, she had to take her word at face value. If she began to second-guess her, she'd go insane.  
  
Whether it made sense or not, that was how she'd been raised.  
  
"Unfortunately for me, both of her brothers are absolute jackasses!" Yori hissed. She hoped Mochio was still close enough to hear. Mori and Shika looked at her in shock, while Kaede applauded her slowly. Ayame was smirking at Mori and Shika. She stared at them all, unable to comprehend this behavior.  
  
"Congratulations, I've been trying to get these two imbeciles to understand that for the last two years," Kaede smiled. "Both of them, BOTH of the little fools, have been after the twins since eighth grade. Neither of them seem to understand that the twins are barely human."  
  
"Oh, just because Makoto made fun of you when we were kids!" Shika snapped. Kaede glared at her, pushing her wire-frame glasses higher on her nose. Mori stared at them both helplessly.  
  
"Mochio used to call Mori Monkey-Brains, but that doesn't stop her from fawning over the idiot!" Kaede replied. Mori turned bright red and rounded on Kaede.  
  
"Well, thanks a bunch for reminding me!" she cried. Yori was watching the three with such utter dismay she didn't even notice Ayame had risen to stand beside her. She started when Ayame laid a light hand on her shoulder.  
  
"This is an old argument, in case you couldn't tell," she explained. A smile pulled at the corner of Yori's mouth. She gave in, letting it spread over her face. Ayame smiled back at her. She continued, "I'm glad you're here. Now I have at least one friend who isn't trying to seduce either of my brothers," she said lightly. Yori gaped at her. Friend? After knowing her for so short a time, she called her a. . . friend?  
  
___________------------------------__________  
  
Seething with jealousy, Koemi watched the new girl give Ayame a simpering smile. What had the girl been thinking, anyway, coming to school on the last day? What did she hope to accomplish? Was she just trying to announce her presence?  
  
"Koemi, what's wrong?" someone asked behind her. She turned to see one of the Blue Boys, holding a lunchbox and looking as if he'd lost the world. He gave her a gentle smile. "Do you have something against Yori Hibiki, too?" She inhaled sharply. Was it obvious?  
  
"How did you know?" she asked, a bit breathlessly. ::Get control of yourself,:: she thought firmly. She smoothed her skirt, avoiding his eyes. She hated blue eyes. She preferred eyes that reflected the shadows better than the light, dark eyes, deep eyes. He just looked too honest, too open, too... false. Both twins looked too guileless to be truly genuine. She'd never really trusted either of them.  
  
"You were glaring, openly," he informed her, his eyes wide open and honest. He smiled a little. "And growling. Like a puppy," he added helpfully. Koemi's eyes widened.  
  
"I wasn't," she protested. He laughed at her then, and her heart sank. Of all the times to be laughed at. . . what a jerk! She glared at him, and opened her mouth to ask how he got up the nerve to laugh at her. He spoke again before she could.  
  
"It's sort of cute, actually. You do it all the time," he smiled. At her horrified expression, he frowned. "You didn't know?"  
  
"No, you freak, why didn't you tell me?" she shrieked. He blinked at her, a bit taken aback by the insult. She didn't much care. He'd let her act like an animal in front of Ayame! He'd done it on purpose, the vile little....  
  
"Well, I assumed you'd know, you don't have to call names!" he shouted. There she was, pretty, strong, mysterious little Koemi, shouting at him as if he'd betrayed her in some way. He watched her shining black hair float around her shoulders as she turned and walked away from him. Her back was straight, tiny, shaking, everything about her screamed strength and unhappiness. She'd always been like that, always. And never, not once, had she let either him or Makoto take care of her. Never, not once, had she let them see why she was so blasted unhappy. She was a riddle, and he intended to unlock her secrets.  
  
Makoto could love her, he probably already did. His twin never really spoke of any other girls, and whenever Koemi was mentioned he got the most obnoxiously dreamy expression on his face. Mochio just wanted to understand her. Every day he saw her, he got farther and farther from understanding her. He may as well give up.  
  
He started, surprised at his own thoughts. It was true, he might as well give up. He looked down at the roots of the tree, let his eyes trace their paths as his mind wandered. He was probably going to be forced to marry the she-devil anyway, he had no right to pursue other girls. Makoto was much farther gone than he was, anyway. He decided, then and there, that he would give up on Koemi Kuno forever. She was too much blasted trouble. Makoto could have her.  
  
Koemi walked back to the Blue Boy hesitantly. A plan was forming in her mind, a plan that would help her understand why Ayame was so kind to the girl. The sight of her smiling down at Yori Hibiki drove Koemi slightly mad. She had to know more about this Yori creature, she had to understand this new threat. She crept back to the Blue Boy, intending to force information out of him if necessary.  
  
The idiot was staring at the ground as if he had nothing more constructive to do. She cleared her throat, and he looked up, startled. His face registered his recognition of her, and he didn't look thrilled.  
  
"Makoto," she said, figuring it was six of one and half-dozen of the other. He smiled, a small, perverse smile. She continued. "That Yori girl is living at your house, isn't she?" He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. She took a deep breath. "I have this problem, a big family thing. . . I wondered if I could talk to you about it?" she leaned in very close and whispered the last part. He opened his mouth as if to say something snide, and she held her breath. If he refused, if his legendary attraction to her failed. . . At the last second a thought crossed his face. She watched it fill his eyes.  
  
"Ah, sure. Tell you what, meet me after school, out in front of the gym," he said, a smug smile on his face. She grinned up at him, an honest, relieved smile. He was playing directly into her hands.  
  
"Would it be okay if I just came by your house this afternoon?" she asked, trying to keep her voice as quiet and sweet as possible. Simper, simper, vomit later. The blue boy grinned back at her and nodded.  
  
"Sure. Come by around five, okay?" Mochio said. Whistling innocently, he walked past her. With a Herculean effort, he restrained himself from dancing for joy. ::Just wait till Makoto finds out he has a date with Koemi!:: he thought ecstatically. ::He owes me big for this!::  
  
____________--------------------___________  
  
"Hey, Ranma," Akane asked from the doorway of the dojo, "Have you seen Ryouga?" She paused in the doorway, noting he was watching Goro go through a kata. She wouldn't have interrupted if she'd seen him first, but. . . she could wait. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, working out the knots. It never ceased to amaze her how many knots her chin-length hair could accumulate.  
  
Instead of watching their biggest, most enthusiastic student, she let her eyes drift across her husband's bare back. They'd worked out a nice routine, just the two of them. He taught the earliest class, the dawn class, and she taught the evening class. After his class he'd train in the dojo with Goro, or with his aging father, or with her. Really, it was more that she trained with him. She'd been trying for years to harness the power her temper gave her, but she was still only able to beat him when she got really, really mad. .  
  
Her eyes wandered over his skin, and they found the scars. There were a lot of scars, really, small white marks against his muscular back. There were three in particular, though, that her eyes sought out. They were the scars he got in the last fight with Ryouga, the fight that drove Ryouga to leave them.  
  
She didn't know what started it, but she could guess. Ryouga had never gotten over his need to beat Ranma, he told her as much the night before the big fight. At the time, she was trying to wrestle her twin two- year olds into a bath, and he was sitting with Yori on his lap, watching her and Ayame coo at each other. She hadn't paid much attention to him then. She'd paid even less attention when Ryouga started apologizing for "what he had to do," because it seemed to her Ryouga was always apologizing for something.  
  
The next day, when she was trying to comfort and restrain all her crying children, she'd cursed herself for her stupidity. Ayame and Yori were just learning how to walk, and since Yori was five months older she was much, much better at it. The twins were screaming at their father, more angry than scared, telling him to stop wrecking the house as he and Ryouga burst through walls. Right over their heads, on the roof, Ranma started doing his chestnuts-roasting-over-an-open-fire right into Ryouga's stomach. Yori had cried, and toddled away from Akane, who was trying desperately to restrain her twins. Then, Ranma jumped down, a few feet from Yori, and shouted something.  
  
Yori attacked Ranma, hitting his legs with her stubby little fists and yelling, in her broken, baby Japanese, that he'd better stop hurting her daddy. That was when Akane lost her hold on Mochio. That was when Ryouga threw some of his bandannas, just like he had when he'd cut Akane's hair, at Ranma. And Mochio was running at Yori, who was yelling at Ranma, while the yellow cloths spun towards them both. . . Ryouga never had been terribly accurate with his bandannas. He was missing Ranma by a half-foot, but it was enough. Akane had seen the cloths and started towards the children, she was almost there when she felt Ranma's weight heavy on her back . . .  
  
And saw the rivulets of blood falling from his shoulders.  
  
They weren't deep gashes, really, just one cut on each shoulder and one across his ribs. He'd helped her up, his back still to Ryouga. He dusted her off, his mouth set in a grim line and his eyes flashing dangerously. The cries of the children faded into the back of her mind as she watched his face. His eyes were so strange and dark when he turned to face Ryouga, so cold and distant. She'd picked up Yori and Mochio, stepping back away from the combatants.  
  
She could still picture Ryouga's face. Ranma was watching him, the air around him blazing blue. Ryouga, though, all of Ryouga's battle aura had subsided. He was staring at her in perfect horror. He looked from her to Yori in her arms, and his face was a picture of shocked, terrified sorrow. He was gone that night, and Yori was gone with him.  
  
If she hadn't run out there, if she had been able to keep the children back, Ryouga would have stayed. Yori would have grown up in a house, with a family. Perhaps it wouldn't have been a normal family, but it would have been more stable. Who knew what sort of life the child had led? It was entirely possible, if both she and Ryouga could never find their way, that she had never been to school.  
  
Akane walked to stand behind her husband. She laid a light hand on each of his shoulders. Perhaps, just perhaps, Ranma would have told her about this silly engagement idea before he told the children. He didn't really think she'd let him do that, did he?  
  
"Goro, that's enough for now. Get on out of here," Ranma ordered. Goro looked up, surprised. He saw Akane behind Ranma and a small smile flitted across his face. He nodded to them and, without a word left the dojo.  
  
"No, I haven't seen Ryouga," he said, looking up at his wife. He smiled at her. She smiled back. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"He's missing. Your father is complaining about not having anyone to play Shogi with," she explained. Ranma sighed.  
  
"Well, the old fool ought to find a new hobby," he said. Akane nodded absently.  
  
"Since Dad died, it's been the same routine, every day. He's never going to find a new hobby," she sighed. She stood back, letting him stand up. She put her hands on her hips.  
  
"Let's talk about the engagement," she said, determined. The night before, she'd been too busy trying to beat answers out of him to listen to any of them. And then, after things had cooled down and the kids had gone to bed, when she'd tried to ask him again, the baka had gone and distracted her.  
  
Ranma grinned sheepishly and bent to kiss her. His hand went up into that mass of dark, knotted hair as their lips met. Her body responded to him instantly, her hands moving up to his shoulders entirely of their own accord. Every time, every time they'd kissed since their very first kiss nineteen years ago, there was a moment when their lips met that she could lose herself. . . Not this time, though. Akane pushed him away roughly and shook a scolding finger in his face.  
  
"Oh, no. You did that last night. I won't let you distract me twice," she scolded. He smiled sheepishly. She thought for a moment he was going to point out that he'd had to do a lot more to distract her last night, but he didn't.  
  
"Can't blame a guy for trying," he said, and laughed nervously.  
  
"Ranma!" she snapped, glaring now. "The engagement!"  
  
"Oh, that. Don't worry about that, Akane," he smiled. She glared up at him, tapping her toes on the floor. "No, really, it isn't anything. Ryouga probably won't expect us to abide by it, and I certainly don't expect our sons to abide by it. At this point it's essentially an excuse for Ryouga and Yori to stay here," he explained.  
  
"Ranma, they don't NEED and excuse to stay here! They're welcome anyway!" she shouted in exasperation. He nodded, closing his eyes.  
  
"Yes, but they wouldn't feel welcome. The only way to get those two to stay here is to make him feel obligated. I wanted them to come back a few years ago, but they got lost, and. . ." he took a deep breath. He opened one eye partway and smiled at her. "So until they feel welcome here, we'll just keep up the engagement."  
  
Akane took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So, that was Ranma's big plan. She hadn't found any flaws in it. . . yet. When she did, she'd let him know. Loudly. As usual. 


	3. The Past Revealed

Disclaimer: Some of these characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi—Ranma, Akane, Ukyou, Ryouga, Akari, Genma, Kasumi, Sasuke, and the Kunos. There may be a few others sprinkled throughout. The rest, the younger generation, are mine.  
  
Two quick notes. First, this is the story I originally wanted to write with my other fanfic, but I wanted to write it sooner than I wanted to bring the story to this point. I'm lazy, you see. Since this is the same story, all rules that are going to be in the other story apply. Cologne will give Ranma water from the Spring of Drowned Man, and he'll get to use it. Unfortunately for him, that just means a reversal of the curse, so that he turns into a girl with hot water and a boy with cold water. The souls of Jusenkyo don't let people off that easy. Ranma's pretty happy with it, though. Secondly, Ayame means Iris. She isn't named that because it's similar to Akane, I promise.  
  
This gives me such joy. . . it's like finding a cheap katana in a hardware store. . .I apologize for the end of the chapter. I felt it nessecary.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"Come on in!" Ukyou called. She was in between the lunch crowd and the dinner crowd, with only two starry-eyed teens in her shop. She slung their okonomiyaki onto their plates with vengeance. She felt trapped. She was caught in a cosmic loop, doomed to do the same blasted thing every blasted day. Wake up, cook okonomiyaki, watch stupid teenagers have stupid romances. She'd been doing the very same thing every day since she graduated high school.  
  
She was going to scream.  
  
"Hey, Ukyou. I'm sort of surprised you're still here," a voice came from the doorway. She looked up in surprise, her eyes finding the dark brown eyes of Ryouga. Her mouth dropped in shock as he walked over to her counter and sat down. He surveyed the area around him. "Place hasn't changed much," he noted.  
  
"You have," Ukyou said bluntly. He laughed at her, revealing the fangs which she supposed he would never outgrow. He'd outgrown his clothes, apparently. Instead of the bright yellow she was used to seeing him in, he wore all black, as if he was in mourning. He'd even got rid of his yellow bandanna, and wore his hair long and loose. He looked so much like an adult it frightened her.  
  
"Well, I ought to have changed in the last twenty years!" he said. He leaned on her counter. She blinked at him, seeing in the broken man the unstable youth she'd once known. It was uncanny.  
  
"Tell you what, in honor of your return to Nerima, I'll give you one on the house," she smiled to cover the akwardness, and began to mix it together. "Will you be staying long?"  
  
"Yeah, probably forever. Now that I'm back, I don't think I'll ever find my way out again. My feet keep tracing familiar paths, to the dojo, to here, to Furinkan High. Did you know Ranma's kids go there? I feel like we're all stuck in some time loop," he admitted, watching his okonomiyaki frying. The thought so cleanly mirrored her own that she let her hand fall to the hot surface.  
  
"Oh! Careful!" Ryouga shouted as she snatched her hand up. "Are you okay, Ukyou?" he asked. She nodded, cursing herself. She had to get to a different topic of conversation, If he kept saying her thoughts out loud like that, she was going to have to toss him out on his ear.  
  
"I heard you married Akari," she said softly. He looked up, startled, then looked away.  
  
"Yeah, it was sort of a shotgun wedding. You know, we didn't mean for anything to happen but one night things got out of hand and the next thing I knew she was pregnant and I was standing at this altar saying these words. . ." he dismissed it with a wave of his hand, as if it were all nothing. Ukyou admired that. She had some experience in belittling tragedy. "She died giving birth to Yori. Yori's just like me, you know, big. She's always been big, and Akari was just so little . . ." he trailed off. So the rumors were true. Exactly true, in fact. She could have cried, she'd hoped Ryouga's story wasn't nearly so sad. Instead, she flipped his okonomiyaki onto his plate.  
  
"Eat up," she said, without enthusiasm.  
  
"Thanks," he replied, but he didn't so much as touch it. He wouldn't meet her eyes either. She cleared her throat, trying to find another topic. She'd messed up with the last one, so maybe. . .  
  
"Did you ever get married, Ukyou?" he asked, meeting her eyes with a small smile. She blinked at him. So, he'd decided to come up with a new topic himself.  
  
"No, I never found anyone I wanted to marry," she answered quietly. Ryouga stared at her.  
  
"Really? A woman like you, never married?" he asked, then, as if realizing what he'd just said, he blushed and started shoving food in his mouth. She folded her arms and watched him.  
  
"And just what sort of woman am I?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. Ryouga gulped his food. Some things never change, and he had a sneaking suspician Ukyou's spatula was one of them. He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head.  
  
"I ..... ah, you. . . I mean, all those guys at your school. . ." he stammered. He was saved from having to form a coherant answer by Makoto's hectic entrance.  
  
"Ucchan! You'll never guess what happens today!" he cried exitedly. Ukyou watched him with the feeling that she was waking from a long dream. There they were in her shop, an old Ryouga and a young copy of Ranma. And what was she? Was she an old woman yet, or did she look the same?  
  
"You're right, I never will guess," she replied drolly. "You'll just have to tell me," she announced. Makoto sat down in front of her counter, smiling ear to ear.  
  
"Today I'm taking Koemi Kuno on a date!" he announced proudly. Ryouga looked at Ukyou, eyebrows raised.  
  
"Kuno?" he asked, as if the young man weren't there. She nodded, trying to force her shoulders to relax.  
  
"Really, she's much more sane than either her father or her aunt," Ukyou replied. Ryouga tried to wrap his mind around the concept, but couldn't.  
  
"But who would marry Kuno?" he asked, his tone incredulous. His mouth worked itself up into a sneer. Ukyou smiled then, an amused smirk.  
  
"You remember Azusa Shiratori," she said quietly. Ryouga fell off his chair and began to twitch on the ground.  
  
"Would you two stop talking like I don't exist? Ucchan!" Makoto protested. Before Ukyou could answer him, Ryouga hauled himself up from the floor to gape at Makoto, which confused the boy immensely.  
  
"What're you lookin' at?" he asked, taking a step back.  
  
"You WANT to date the offspring of Tatewaki Kuno and Azusa Shiratori?" Ryouga cried, still not beleiving. Makoto, feeling he had in some way just been deeply insulted, leapt to his feet before dropping right back down into a fighting stance.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" he asked defiantly. Ryouga sat down in his stool again, ignoring the implied challenge.  
  
"Ukyou, is this kid serious?" he asked. Makoto growled and lunged at him, finally fed up with being ignored. Without even turning his head, Ryouga raised his hand and hit Makoto in the chest as he lunged. Makoto went flying out of the shop.  
  
"The Kuno girl really isn't so bad, Ryouga. She's a terribly abused little thing," Ukyou sighed, leaning on her countertop.  
  
"Well, I would think so," he mused.  
  
"HIBIKI-SAN!" Makoto yelled from the doorway. He stood there, his battle aura flaming aroung him, as Ukyou and Ryouga watched with faint amusement on their faces.  
  
"Just like his dad," Ryouga noted, standing up.  
  
"He has his days," Ukyou admitted, "Would you take this outside? If you wreck my shop, I'll cut you in half," she promised, her tone light. Ryouga eyed her giant spatula and sighed. He was home. For better or worse, he was home.  
  
"Come on, kid, let's go see what your father taught you," he suggested, a familiar gleam coming to his eyes. For one moment, he looked like the sixteen-year old she'd known. He looked like. . . like P-chan. Ukyou considered splashing him with cold water, just to see Makoto's reaction, but decided against it. After all, the boy might one day have Ryouga as a father-in-law. It would be good to pound out all their differences beforehand.  
  
__________----------------_________  
  
"Well, well, the beast can wear normal clothes after all!" Mochio called after his sister and Yori. Yori's back stiffened, and he felt a shiver of satisfaction run all down his spine. She didn't turn and face him, though. He really wanted her to. He really wanted her to turn around and fight with him, so he could lose himself in his temper. Violence was all he had at the moment, his only means of escape.  
  
"You did a good job, Ayame, training your puppy to walk on two legs. You even shaved it and dressed it up!" he called out. His sister turned to him, her face a mask of rage. He wasn't interested in her, though. His eyes stayed on Yori as she turned, slowly, and said something to Ayame. Ayame sat back on her hunches while Yori ran back to him, her face bright red and tears glistening in her eyes.  
  
__________-----------------_________  
  
"What have you done to Makoto?" Dr. Tofu asked, eyeing the twitching, contorted boy Ayame was dragging into his office. She had him by the foot, and was pulling him along on the ground, letting his head hit every obstacle. Dr. Tofu sighed. The Saotomes would never, ever change. It seemed like only yesterday he'd been. . .  
  
"Oh, hello. Who're you?" he asked the young girl following Ayame. She was also watching the siblings, a smug look on her face. Her hair was falling down around her face, lovely thick, dark hair coming out of a ruined bun at the back of her head. She had enviable skin, too, and if she wasn't the petite sort of woman who usually got mixed up with the Saotomes, that was just as well. She turned to him, her head held high. He realized with a jolt that she was almost his height.  
  
"I'm Yori Hibiki, and that idiotic excuse for a martial artist," she gestured towards the boy Ayame was dragging, "is Mochio, not Makoto." Dr. Tofu stared at her for a moment, then smiled.  
  
"You're Ryouga's daughter, then? Wonderful. I suppose you know what happened to the young man?" he asked. She blushed slightly, but didn't lower her head. She acted like a boy. Dr. Tofu wondered for a moment if she shared Ranma's curse, but decided she was too young to have been cursed at Jusenkyo.  
  
"I happened to him," she admitted, without excuses or qualifications. "My father and Ranma Saotome have arranged a marriage between myself and either that idiot or his twin, and none of us are terribly happy about it," she explained. Dr. Tofu frowned, trying to remember if Kasumi had mentioned any arranged marriages. He didn't think so, but then he found it terribly difficult to focus on what she was saying when he was watching her.  
  
"That's odd, my wife didn't mention anything of the sort," he mused.  
  
"Your wife knows the Saotomes?" Yori asked. Ayame hadn't said anything about a personal connection.  
  
"I should think so, Akane Saotome is her sister," he replied. Yori's jaw dropped in shock. Was everyone in Nerima connected to these people? Or was there just a tight little circle of them, which none of them ever moved out of?  
  
Seeing her expression, Dr. Tofu began to laugh. It is entirely possible that, since his wedding, Dr. Tofu has laughed, smiled, and cried for joy more than any other human being on the planet. It's entirely possible that he's the happiest man alive.  
  
"Tofu-Sensei! Are you going to help Mochio or not?" Ayame called from the back room she'd dragged Mochio into. Tofu blinked, his mind clearing of his wife and children and returning to work. Even in her absence, now, Kasumi distracted him.  
  
"I'll be right there," he replied, and Ayame walked out, her hands on her hips. Before his niece said anything, he cut her off with, "Why don't you go visit your aunt? I'm sure she'd hate to be kept in the dark about Yori and the twins."  
  
That settled it. Before she quite knew what was going on, Yori was dragged out of the doctor's office and was running behind Ayame. They slowed to a walk in the neighborhood a few streets over from the doctor's office.  
  
"You didn't say your aunt was married to Dr. Tofu," Yori said accusinly. Ayame shrugged.  
  
"Must have slipped my mind. They're absolutely insane, you know, and madly in love," she announced. Yori stared at her, amazed at this unexpected romantic bent.  
  
"How can you tell?" she asked, wondering how her friend would quantify something like love. Ayame paused in front of the door she'd led Yori to, a light blue door on a little white house.  
  
"Let me put it this way. They've been married five years, and they have five children, with one on the way," she grinned evilly. Yori gaped at her as she knocked on the blue door.  
  
"Aunt Kasumi!" she called. The blue door opened, but instead of a pregnant woman a young girl answered the door. She couldn't have been more than four, she was all round baby fat and brown curls. She screamed with delight when she saw Ayame, and launched herself at her cousin.  
  
"Ayame, Ayame!" she screamed, her voice high enough to make the glass in the windows rattle. Ayame simply smiled at her and picked her up.  
  
"Hey, Haru-chan. Where's your mommy?" Ayame asked the little girl. Haru pointed into the brightly lit house, and Ayame stepped inside, still carrying the child. After a moment, Yori followed. She hadn't been invited in, but if she tried to go home on her own she'd never find the dojo.  
  
"Ayame? Akina, go see if that's Ayame," a woman said softly. A little girl just like Haru, only slightly taller, ran out of the sliding paper kitchen door, which was to the direct left of them. Akina threw herself at her aunt, just like Haru had, but without the screaming. Yori wondered if that would happen with each child, five little torpedos headed for Ayame's legs.  
  
"It's me, Aunt Kasumi. I brought a visitor," Ayame called out. Akina slid the door open for her, and Ayame led Yori into a huge kitchen. The cabinets were light blue, the floor was a sunny yellow, the curtains on the small window over the sink were a filly white, and everything was immaculately clean. It was only the third kitchen Yori'd ever seen in her life, since she'd been on the road so much, and she was impressed.  
  
By one of the light blue counters, a woman turned and went to hug Ayame. She ignored completely the toddler drooling on her leg, and the round bulge of her belly between herself and her neice. Yori's first impression faded into a sort of horror when she surveyed the kitchen. She'd never seen such absolute pandemonium, the toddler and a three-year-old were fighting over their mother's legs, an infant on a blanket in the corner was kicking the walls and making very, very loud happy gurgling noises. Haru and Akina were fighting over Ayame, and the two women just stood and smiled beatific smiles at each other. They must be mad.  
  
"Aunt Kasumi, this is Yori Hibiki," Ayame explained, and Yori smiled akwardly. The pregnant brunnette smiled back at her, a sweet blank smile.  
  
"You must be Ryouga's daughter, then. What brings you into town?" she asked, her voice low and sweet. Yori was amazed she could hear it over the children.  
  
"Well, to be quite honest, my father dragged me here. He made a deal with Mr. Saotome when we were all little, and he brought me back here to fulfill his promise," she explained slowly.  
  
"What sort of promise did the boys make?" Kasumi asked, still smiling that blank smile. Yori blinked at her for a moment before she realized which "boys" Kasumi meant.  
  
"I'm supposed to marry one of the twins," she said quietly. Kasumi's jaw dropped in shock, and her pale hand rose to cover her mouth.  
  
"They didn't," she whispered. Yori nodded gravely, glad someone finally understood the gravity of the situation. Kasumi blinked thoughfully, and took her hadn down from her face, "On the other hand, it does sort of make sense," she said slowly. Yori gaped at her. So much for sympathy. . .  
  
"What. Sort. Of. Sense. Does. This. Make?" she said, very slowly, saying each word clearly, relying on emphasis rather than volume to get her feeling across. This woman had seemed to understand . . .  
  
"Well, his marriage to Akane was arranged, but they turned out just fine. The boys were around so many arranged marriages when they were teenagers, I'd be surprised if they had any concept of a normal relationship," she replied sagely, prying Haru off Ayame as she talked. Yori could only shake her head in confusion.  
  
"What are you talking about? The only arranged marriage I know of was Ayame's parents! My dad was never involved in that stuff," Yori protested.  
  
"Of course he was, Yori. Your father was in love with Akane. And as for the arranged marriages, there were at least two others. It depends how you count them, really," she said absently. She turned to Ayame, who was sharing a look of surprise with Yori. "Ayame, will you help me cut the vegetables?"  
  
"Oh, sure," Ayame said quickly. She walked to the counter, a little stiffly due to the little girl attached to her leg, and picked up a knife. "Tell us about the arranged marriages. Why hasn't anyone mentioned them before?"  
  
"Why discuss the past?" Kasumi said sweetly. She rolled her eyes upward, as if trying to remember. Apparently, it was a rhetorical question, because she promptly began to discuss that very thing. "Let's see. There was Shampoo, a Chinese girl Ranma met when he was training over there. She was bound by her tribal laws to marry Ranma, but I wouldn't call that an arranged marriage."  
  
"What did my dad do to that girl to invoke such a law?" Ayame interrupted, almost afriad to ask but much, much more afraid of what her imagination provided.  
  
"Oh, he beat her in a fight. Amazon women are bound by law to marry men who can defeat them," Kasumi said lightly, as if discussing eggs and celery. "Then there was Kodachi Kuno, and that wasn't an arranged marriage, it was more of a contract she'd decided had to be fulfilled, entirely her own idea," Kasumi continued. "There were several arranged marriages, though, that Grandfather Panda made while Ranma was a baby. They caused a few problems, but eventually all of them went away except Ukyou Kuonji," Kasumi sighed, chopping her carrots into minutely thin slices. Ayame had stopped cutting altogether, and was staring at her aunt.  
  
"I know that woman," she said quietly. Kasumi nodded.  
  
"Oh, yes. Very sweet girl, very loyal. Ayame dear, are you going to chop those potatos?" she asked. Ayame began to cut again, her knife more violent than precise.  
  
"What was my father, some sort of playboy?" she asked, her eyebrow twitching slightly. Kasumi laughed at her.  
  
"Of course not. He never so much as kissed anyone other than your mother, that I know of. Well," Kasumi trailed off into a memory, "Shampoo, maybe, but. . . Anyway, it isn't important. Your mother had her own trail of suitors," Kasumi smiled. She turned around to shine that smile at Yori.  
  
"Would you start mixing the batter over by the oven?" she asked. Yori took a deep breath and looked into that sweet face, wondering . . .  
  
"What was my dad like, back then? Back when he was my age?" she asked. "And. . . did you know my mother?" she said quietly.  
  
"Of course I did, though I didn't know her well. She was a very genuine young woman, very much in love with your father. And your father. . . he was a bit unstable, but his heart was always in the right place. He never did anything, it seems, except fight your father," she said quietly. Yori turned away from her. "Now, dear, would you please help me with the batter?"  
  
"Sure," Yori mumbled. With the very first twist of the spoon, she managed to send all the contents of the bowl flying into every cranny of the kitchen—all over the toddlers, the baby, the girls, and the two women with their beatific smiles. 


	4. The Pigtailed Girl Strikes Again

Disclaimer: Most of these characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The other ones. . .  
  
Ok, one more time. As was going to happen in my other story, and still might if I can stop being lazy long enough to write it out, Cologne has given Ranma water from the Spring of Drowned Man in order to "kill his girl half" and save Shampoo's honor. This doesn't cure him. Instead, now he turns into a girl with hot water and a boy with cold. He;s cool with that, because that means as long as he doesn't spill tea on himself he's fine.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
"You know, your dad was a lot faster than this," Ryouga abserved, dodging Makoto's punches. The young man growled, and Ryouga whistled in amazement. "Does Akane-san know you're in this condition?"  
  
"And WHAT condition is that?" Makoto snarled. He was getting really, really tired of this. All Hibiki-san was doiong was dodging him. Ever since that first hit. . . which STILL hurt. . .Ryouga had just been playing with him!  
  
"A pretty rotten one," Ryouga observed, his tone entirely casual. He wasn't even trying, just dancing around Makoto in circles. "I wonder if Ranma's deteriorated this far?" he continued, mostly to himself.  
  
"That's enough, ok?" Makoto shouted. He could feel his temper rising, and he welcomed the warm rush of anger. With a wordless scream, he aimed a barrage of punches at Ryouga's chest.  
  
And they connected.  
  
Ryouga fell back, gasping for breath, and Makoto closed the space between them. He kicked Ryouga's stomach, once, twice, and then shot an uppercut at his jaw. Rocking back from that punch, Ryouga finally threw one of his own. He hit Makoto square in the nose. Makoto rocked back, then started for Ryouga again.  
  
The fight had begun in earnest.  
  
_____________---------------------_____________  
  
"Is anyone here?" Koemi shouted, opening the front door of the Saotome house. She took a few tentative steps inside. "Koemi? Makoto? Mochio?"  
  
"They haven't come home yet," someone said off to her right. She turned to look, and had to cover her mouth to hold back a squeal of surprise. The man standing there was just so... big! He was almost twice her size! And it wasn't fat either, which was the scary part. . . He was wearing a gi, and looked like he was exhausted. She wondered for a moment what could exhaust a giant. Genocide, maybe?  
  
"Who're you?" she asked, her voice level. She lowered her hand and did her best to look unshaken.  
  
"I'm Goro, the new disciple in this madhouse," he replied, sourly. Koemi blinked at him.  
  
"Madhouse?" she asked, unsure of what to do. Should she come in, act like the owned the house, should she just leave. . .  
  
"Oh, yeah. All the kids fight each other over everything, there's a bloody panda in there that everybody calls Grandpa, and the owners of this joint alternate fighting and. . . well. It's even better when Mr. Saotome's master shows up," Goro said with a malicious grin. Koemi stared at him, deciding the conversation wasn't worth pursuing.  
  
"So the kids aren't home yet?" she drawled. Goro shrugged. "Can I come in anyway?" A thought struck her, and she smiled. "Maybe you could show me your dojo? I haven't seen it."  
  
"Ah.... No," Goro laughed nervously. Koemi narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Why not?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, you can come in and all, but you don't want to go into the dojo right now. Saotome and Akane-san are in there and. . ." he trailed off. Koemi blinked at him.  
  
"Do they not like it when others interrupt their training?" she asked, frowning in confusion.  
  
"Ahh, yeah. That's why," Goro said quickly. He gestured off to his left. "You can go wait in the tea room. If you want, I'll get you some kind of snack," he offered. Koemi nodded and followed him into the tea room.  
  
"How. . . quaint," she murmered, falling gracefully to her knees. The tea room was all but barren, just a table and a television, really. It was downright spartan. The rice paper doors on the other side of the tea room were open, as were the doors beyond that. She could see a koi pond, some rocks and. . . a wall. That wasn't the whole yard, surely?  
  
"Who are you?" Goro asked, his tone light and curious.  
  
"Kuno Koemi," she replied, as simply as possible. He jerked back in surprise.  
  
"Not the Koemi the twins have been chasing after?" he asked, his tone somewhat surprised. "You don't look at all like they described you," he continued, and almost cursed at his lack of tact. Fortunately, he never had to explain what he'd meant, because one of the twins leapt over the wall at almost exactly that moment. Hibiki-san followed closely.  
  
"I know your secret, old man!" the twin shouted, leaping above Ryouga and kicking him down into the koi pond. Koemi stood to go and mediate between the two, but Goro was already there.  
  
"Get DOWN!" the giant roared, knocking the twin out of the air. "You shouldn't knock old people into pools! What if he gets a cold?" Goro shouted, releasing the bruised twin from his grasp.  
  
"Look!" Koemi gasped, her eyes fixed on the pool. A little black pig was struggling to climb up the rocks. She hopped over the table and ran to help him. As she scooped the squealing animal off the stones, she noticed Ryouga had vanished from the koi pond. She looked down at the little pig, who was glaring up at her with a human intelligence.  
  
"You can't be that old man, can you?" she asked, somewhat astonished. The little black pig nodded and jumped out of her arms.  
  
"He's cursed. Ucchan told me all about it," Makoto grinned, watching the little black pig scuttle towards the wall. "Fell in some lake in China, now he turns into a pig whenever he gets wet."  
  
"Wow. Bet Yori had a rough time of it on the road, then. Hey, you don't suppose she turns into a pig, do you?" Goro asked, nanchalant. He watched Ryouga scuttle in circles around a bush as if he often saw people transform.  
  
"Huh. I dunno. Oh! Koemi!" Makoto cried, as if he hadn't noticed she was there. She raised her eyebrows at him, putting a hand on her hip.  
  
"You always come to meetings with classmates so dishevled?" she asked. She would have to investigate this cursed lake or whatever it was. . . later. For now, she had some interrogating to do. She smiled at whichever twin it was, presumably Makoto, with a proprietary gleam in her eye. He was hers to torment.  
  
"I, ah, well. . . no. No, not really," he said, looking down at himself. "Tell you what, I'll go change. You and Goro can find a way to fix Hibiki-san." He jogged into the building.  
  
"I really don't think anything will fix that man," Koemi gestured toward the pig, who had begun wandering off towards the koi pond. . . again. Surely, even as a pig he had to have some idea of where he was going?  
  
"Who's out here?" someone called, a deep voice ringing clear as a challenge. Koemi turned to see a man, shirtless, standing by the open door of a building off to the side. She supposed this must be Saotome-san, and that meant the little building he was in must be. . .  
  
"You call that a dojo?" she whispered. The shirtless man was frowning at her.  
  
"Were you the one fighting out here?" he asked. Goro, with a long- enduring sigh, picked up the wandering Ryouga and held him out for Saotome- san to see. At the sight of the pig, Ranma's frown softened.  
  
"Stupid," he muttered, and walked out towards his huge disciple. "Was P-brain over here the one fighting?" Goro nodded. "Well, I suppose you have some questions, then."  
  
"Yeah, like what took you so long to come out here?" Goro droned. There was a flash of movement, and suddenly Ranma was standing on top of a fallen Goro, holding Ryouga by the scruff of the neck.  
  
"When you are married, my disciple, I'll tell you what took so long," he grinned, hopping on Goro once before stepping off. "Now, about this pig. . ."  
  
"How do we change him back into the old man?" Koemi interrupted. Saotome-san blinked at her, and she noticed, with disgust, that he had the same open, honest eyes the twins had.  
  
"Wow, you catch on quick. Took Akane years to figure that one out," he said. "Who're you?"  
  
"Koemi. Kuno Koemi," she smiled, bowing slightly. "And it really wasn't hard to figure out, Makoto said someone named Ucchan had explained the whole thing to him."  
  
"I wonder what else Ucchan explained," Ranma said to himself. He looked at Koemi more sharply. "Tell me, you wouldn't happen to have inherited Kodachi's love of herbs, have you?"  
  
"I have inherited nothing from that vile woman!" Koemi spat. How dare this man associate her with her evil, twisted aunt! She looked at him, an older replica of the twins, and considered doing him serious bodily harm.  
  
"Ok, ok! Sorry I asked. Glad you formed the same opinion of her that I did," the old man smiled, and began walking towards the house. "If you want to stay for dinner, you'll have to tell one of the twins. They do most of the cooking."  
  
"Wh..." she began, but didn't finish it. She stared helplessly after the freak. Eventually a heavy hand clamped down on her shoulder.  
  
"He's the normal one," Goro assured her. Maybe she did want to leave. . .  
  
"Tadaima! We're home!" a familiar voice rang out, and Koemi felt her heart leap into her throat. Ayame was home! No, Koemi most certainly didn't want to leave. She couldn't. She started towards the house, ignoring the giant's hand on her shoulder. She went back through the tea room, and beamed as she saw Ayame standing in the entryway. She was bent, removing her shoes, and her long dark blue hair had flecks of. . . batter? What had her Ayame been doing?  
  
"Hiya. Where's Yori? Don't tell me she's with one of the twins," Ayame's father said, still holding the struggling black pig by the scruff of the neck. Ayame smiled and shook her head.  
  
"Nah, she's with Aunt Kasumi. As it turns out, the girl is a cooking prodigy but she doesn't know much about real kitchens. Aunt Kasumi says Yori can come after school and learn how to use the oven and stuff," Ayame's face brightened even more, her eyes adopting a malicious gleam. "We did have a bit of a run-in with Mocchio, though. Yori hammered him," she said. The tiny pig squealed in triumph.  
  
"Did you teach her your bakkusai tenketsu?" Ranma Saotome asked the happy little pig in his hand. The pig shook its head.  
  
"Dad, pigs can't teach people techniques," Ayame scolding, picking up the tiny thing. She smiled at it. "He's so cute!"  
  
"Yeah, wait a minute and I'll show you just how cute he is," Ranma promised, taking the pig back. He strode into the kitchen, and Ayame followed him. Koemi followed Ayame. All she wanted was for Ayame to acknoweldge her presence. . . Once in the kitchen, Ranma put a kettle of water on the stove. He then turned to his daughter, a faint frown on his face.  
  
"This is going to be kind of a shock. Let me explain," he cleared his throat, "In China, there is an ancient training ground called Jusenkyo springs. There are a lot of lakes up there, each one cursed so that a human falling in will take the shape of a certain animal, depending on the spring. They turn into a Jusenkyo is all flooded now, and far too dangerous for training, but when I was a little younger than you my father and I went there to train. Ryouga, who had a grudge against me, followed. He fell into one of the springs while we were in China, and now he turns into a little black pig."  
  
"No way," Ayame's eyes widened as she stared at P-chan. Her father nodded solemnly.  
  
"Oh yes. A lot of the people your mother and I knew as teenagers had fallen into the Jusenkyo springs. My father and I also. . ." he trailed off. Ayame nodded.  
  
"He turns into a panda! And here I';ve never seen him as a human!" she gasped, sort of shocked. Ranma sighed.  
  
"Yeah, he sort of gave up on being accountable for himself, so he doesn't like being a human anymore," he said sadly.  
  
"What do you turn into, Mr. Saotome?" Koemi asked quietly. Ayame looked at her in surprise, as if she hadn't noticed her presence. Which, Koemi reflected, she probably hadn't. Ranma opened his mouth to answer, but he never got the chance.  
  
"WHERE is my daughter!?" a voice thundered down the hallway. Koemi turned paper white from her toes to her scalp. Her father. . . . Sasuke must have told him!  
  
"Hey, Kuno, long time no see!" Ranma said amiably as Tatewaki Kuno stormed into his kitchen, armed with the bokkan Ranma remembered so well. Kuno had not changed a bit, he looked the same, spoke the same, dressed the same. It was almost reasurring, to know that Kuno would never change.  
  
"You foul demon! Why have you taken my daughter into your house?" Kuno shouted. Ranma blinked. He wasn't implying. . .  
  
"Father. . ." Koemi moaned, in an embarrassed agony.  
  
"Quiet, child, I completely understand. He is a foul tempter, a man who makes slaves of women!" Kuno announced. With that, he lunged at Ranma, who stepped aside. Instead, he hit the kettle, which had just begun to steam, and it exploded inder the pressure of his strike. IN the old days, when Ranma was used to dodging water, he would have missed it. Easily. As it was, he was out of practice, and the hot water splashed over his shoulder . . . which was abruptly a lot smaller than it had been. He glared up at Kuno as the older man stared at him in shock, a slow smile crossing his features.  
  
"My beloved pigtailed girl! How I have longed to see you all these years!" he said, his voice rapturous. His gaze was actually directed at her face, which was somewhat remarkable considering her lack of a shirt. Ranko reflected that the obvious effects of gravity on her body were quite unfair, since she hadn't been a girl enough since her youth to have exposed her chest to much gravity . . . but she had MUCH bigger problems...  
  
"Oh, HELL," Ranko cursed, running past Kuno, who followed her.  
  
"They told me you were DEAD!" Kuno shouted after the fleeing redhead. Ayame and Koemi stared after their father's in shock. At long last, Koemi turned to Ayame, somewhat confused.  
  
"Your dad said they changed back into their original forms with hot water. Does that mean your dad is really a girl?" Koemi asked. Ayame looked at her with wide eyes.  
  
"No way," she whispered. Ayame's mother, Akane, chose that moment to walk into the kitchen.  
  
"What happened here?" she asked, surveying the broken kettle.  
  
"Mom, is Dad really a girl?" Ayame blurted out. Akane looked at her in shock.  
  
"What makes you say that?" she asked.  
  
"Well, Hibiki-san turns into a pig with cold water and Dad just turned into a girl with hot water and . . ."  
  
"Where is the little pig?" Koemi asked, looking around the kitchen. Akane closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down.  
  
"Oh, hell," she muttered. 


	5. Goro's Unspoken Confessions

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Yori regarded Kasumi's kitchen with a sort of fearful fascination. There were so many strange tools, so very many implements she=d never heard of, much less seen. And the machines! She'd never really thought such intricate things would be needed to cook. The oddest was a little black box which Kasumi had called a microwave, and explained that it used a form of radiation to cook. Yori had been to Hiroshima, or so she thought, and the very idea of using such a thing to cook with was horrifying. Of course, it was probably a different type of radiation, but still. . . hadn't these people ever heard of fire?  
  
"I think this turned out rather well", Kasumi smiled, that same blank smile she had worn all afternoon. Yori regarded the meal they'd prepared speculatively. Sure, it was a lot fancier than what she and her father normally ate, but would it taste as good? She tried to remember all the new words she'd learned while they were cooking, and found them slipping away from her. It didn't matter much, Kasumi had said she could come back every day that summer and learn how to use a kitchen.  
  
Akina and Haru, as well as the other little gremlins, were calmer now that Ayame was gone and food was on its way. In fact, aside from the baby Kasumi carried on her hip, they had all gone elsewere to amuse themselves. She had absolutely no idea how Kasumi and Ayame could accomplish anything in the midst of all the screaming brats.  
  
"My husband should be home soon," Kasumi announced, handing the baby to Yori. Yori froze, desperately afraid she'd hurt the little thing. It was so delicate, so very soft. She was going to break it. "I should set the table," Kasumi continued.  
  
"No, I'll do that," Yori said quickly, and handed the baby back to its mother. "Just tell me what to do."  
  
With some confusion but, miraculously, no smashed dishes, the table was set. And just in time, because the door opened just as Yori was putting the last plate down.  
  
"I"m home!" a deep voice rang out. A wider, brighter smile crossed Kasumi's face, and she toddled towards the doorway. Yori, left alone and akward in the dining room, could still hear their voices, and what she heard made her blush with the causal intimacy of it. She just kept thinking, ::What must they do all the bloody time, to have so many children so close together?::  
  
"Welcome home, darling. And you've brought a guest!"  
  
"Yes, honey, sorry I didn't call to warn you. He was the last patient I had today, and we don't see much of him, after all. I hope it won't be too much trouble?"  
  
"Oh, no. Yori and I made plenty of food."

"Yori is here?" a new voice asked, and the sound of it made her blood run cold. Mocchio. Dr. Tofu had brought Mocchio home, to eat the meal she and Kasumi had so carefully made. She looked at the food laid out on the table in front of her, briefly thinking about throwing it all away. It would be better than letting him eat it, letting him tell her how horrible it was, what a wild beast she was . . .  
  
"Yes, she is. She's a wonderful cook."  
  
"I think you two can manage to be civil at dinner, don't you?" Dr. Tofu asked.  
  
"Hard to be civil to someone who=s never been a part of civilization," Mocchio said dryly. Yori clenched her hands into fists. How dare he? She looked around for a means of escape. Her eyes found the door she thought led to the kitchen, and she remembered the back door that room contained. She could escape. She had no idea where she'd escape to, but anything would be better than this.  
  
She strode out through the door, and found herself staring at the entryway of the Tofu residence. Dr. Tofu, Kasumi, and Mocchio all stared at her. She was trapped.  
  
The meal began normally enough. The little children would occasionally throw food at her, at Mocchio, and at each other. Kasumi and Dr. Tofu ignroed them, much too absorbed in staring into each other's eyes to be concerned with such things. It was almost nauseating. Mocchio ate stoically, without looking at her.  
  
What a freaking lovely evening.  
  
The food was good, but after a few bites she was really just pushing it around on her plate, not feeling that her stomach was up to such endeavors. She kept waiting for Mocchio's cruel comment. He didn't dissapoint her. At last he cleared his throat and raised those blazing blue eyes to meet hers.  
  
"You know, this really is rather good for someone who couldn't read the ingredients," he said softly. She glared at him, torn between tears and screaming rage. What had she ever done to him? Did he think she liked this engagement any more than he did? And who said it would be him, anyway? Makoto at least acted like a human being towards her.  
  
"What would you know? The food at your house is always so terrible it must singe your taste buds," she retorted. He stiffened slightly. The twins did most of the cooking, she knew that. And she was telling the truth, as far as it went. None of the Saotomes were very good cooks.  
  
"I'm surprised you noticed. After all, a good portion of taste is the ability to smell, and you had your own overwhelming odor," he replied, his tone entirely urbane.  
  
"Hrm. I challenge you to spend three months in the wilderness and come out smelling pleasant," she said calmly, smiling a little now. He couldn't win this argument. All he had was her appearance coming out of the woods, and that couldn't hurt her. She didn't care about what she looked or smelled like.  
  
He stared at her for a moment.  
  
And went back to eating.  
  
::Twice in one day I have bested you, Mocchio,:: Yori thought contentedly. She found that, quite suddenly, she was hungry again. Mocchio couldn't hurt her with his stupid insults.  
  
----------------------------  
  
"All right," Goro sighed, regarding Akane, Koemi and Ayame carefully. "Let me get this straight. I'm supposed to let the three of you go out alone in search of your," he looked at Koemi, "psychotic father and your," he looked at Akane, "sex-changing husband. Does this sound about right?"  
  
"Someone has to be here with Takeo, and look for Ryouga," Akane said practically. Goro glared at her. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. He especially didn't like the way Koemi kept staring at Ayame. There was a creepy sort of adoration in that dark gaze that he didn't trust one bit. If Koemi were a boy, he'd simply have taken her aside and threatened to tear her arms off if she hurt Ayame. But Koemi was a girl, and you can't just go around threatening tiny, fragile-looking women for looking at somebody the wrong way. And the most frustrating part was, he couldn't come up with a good reason to go with them.  
  
Makoto, whom everyone had more or less forgotten was upstairs, rushed down them in an untucked white dress shirt and black jeans. Akane cocked an eyebrow at him.  
  
"And just where are you going?" she asked.  
  
"Koemi and I are going on a date," he announced, grinning at the small girl. Koemi opened her mouth to protest, but had to clamp it shut again. She had to admit, what she'd suggested to Makoto earlier that day did sound a lot like a date. She glanced at Ayame, who was smiling down at her. A warm rush flooded her bloodstream, and she smiled back. If going on a date with Makoto would make Ayame like her more, she was game for it. As long as he kept his hands to himself.  
  
"Fine. You two have fun," Akane shrugged, and she and Ayame turned to leave. Koemi watched Ayame with a rising sense of panic.  
  
"No!" she gasped, and they turned to look at her. Crap. "Oh, I, ah. . . well, it was my father who started the trouble, right? I want to go with you," she announced.  
  
"I'll come too," Makoto said, not even knowing or caring what he was volunteering for. "We can go on our date after."  
  
Goro watched them all leave, his eyes narrow with suspicion. He had a hunch, just a hunch, that the tiny Koemi Kuno had no interest whatsoever in either of the twins. She seemd far, far more iterested in Ayame. Sweet, strong Ayame who always seemed more like a mother figure than a teenage girl. He couldn't blame Koemi for liking the blue-haired girl, but if she did. . . it was just tough for her.  
  
For months now, he'd been quietly finding out who among her classmates wanted to date Ayame, and challenging them. He let them pick the weapons used, of course, according to the rules of dueling. Some of them chose a physical fight, some chose some sort of race, some chose an intellectual battle. Those were always the hardest for him. But he'd won every single challenge and made them promise to give up on her. It was barbaric, but effective. Very effective.  
  
She was the reason he'd come to this ridiculous little dojo in the first place, after all. He was a martial artist before, of course, but a wandering one. He'd wandered all the way to Nerima, from Osaka, in search of a dojo, or hell, he'd have settled for a job and a warm bed by the time he'd come to Tokyo. He'd wandered past her aunt's house, and seen her playing with the children. There was such an air of calm and collected beauty about her, an aura of quiet kindness. More than that was the overwhelming sense of home she carried with her. Even now, when she was gone from the dojo it seemed just an empty shell of a place.  
  
He'd followed her home that day, careful not to be seen. He didn't want to scare her, he just wanted to know who she was. When she entered the dojo, he knew it had to be fate that brought him to her. He'd knocked on the gate immeadiately and asked to be accepted as a disciple. He hadn't known her name, or what sort of martial arts they practiced, and it didn=t matter. He'd spent his time since then alternating a covert sort of watching her and training. He knew every habitual gesture she had, every nervous habit, every little quirk.  
  
And she had no idea.  
  
He had forgotten, at some point, to let her know anything. How he felt, why he=d come to the dojo. Now that he knew her better, he had the rather discouraging idea that if she knew, it would frighten her. So he waited, and he watched for the moment when she would need him. One of those rare weak moments in which he could comfort her, protect her, show her somehow what he could give her. What he wanted from her.  
  
----------------------  
  
"This is SO beyond old," Ranma muttered, dashing across the rooftops. He hadn't been a girl in a long time, and he found the changes in balance difficult to compensate for. Moreover, without a shirt his bare breasts were bouncing up and down, violently, with every step he took. Or rather, she took.  
  
Kuno was still in hot pursuit, and it wasn=t lost on him that Ranma was headed straight for his estate.  
  
"Oh, my beloved pigtailed girl, you too must long for an amorous reunion!" he cried, his eyes welling with happy tears. Ranma ran faster. When he was sixteen, he hadn't had much of an idea what Kuno was talking about. Oh, he knew the basics, but now. . . now that he had a more detailed idea, the very thought of Kuno touching him made his blood run cold.  
  
He leapt over the wall of the Kuno estate, headed straight for the pond of Mr. Green Turtle. The alligator, it seemed, had not survived the ravages of time. As Ranma dove into the cool water, he felt his body shift and some rather noticible changes occur. He climbed back out onto the shore, to see Kuno trembling with rage over him.  
  
"What. Have. You. Done. With. My. Beloved?"  
  
--------------------  
  
"Mom, how do you know where they'll be?" Ayame asked, her voice smooth despite the furious pace they were setting. Koemi ran just behind her, sulking as Makoto ran just behind Koemi, more to see her hair flowing back than anything else.  
  
"I've done this before," Akane said lightly. She leapt over the walls of the Kuno estate and ran towards the voices. She could hear them now, shouting at each other. When they came into view, Kuno and Ranma were simply standing beside Mr. Green Turtle=s pond, screaming in each other's faces.  
  
"You vile sorcerer, you made me think she was dead!" Kuno screamed.  
  
"You stupid, worthless man! She was never alive! What do I have to do to convince you of that?" Ranma shouted back. Akane stopped a few feet from them considering the options.  
  
"Hey, Kuno, was that a red-haired woman I just saw rushing into your house?" Akane asked clamly. Both men looked at her in shock. Kuno's face erupted into an expression of rapture, and he ran into the house, shouting the usual trite romantic phrases. Ranma smirked.  
  
"When did you learn to be so devious?" he asked her. She grinned at him.  
  
"I picked it up from you. That was much, much easier than I thought it would be," she announced. Ayame, Koemi, and Makoto, who were all standing behind Akane, glowered at her.  
  
"This really didn't require all of us, you know," Ayame grumbled. She turned to her brother and Koemi and her expression brightened. "You two may as well head out on your date."  
  
"Date?" Ranma asked.  
  
"Yeah, this is Kuno Koemi," Makoto grinned, putting an arm around her shoulders. Koemi stiffened visibly.  
  
"But I, ah. . ." she began. She looked around at all the smiling, waiting faces. She didn't have much of a choice. Unless she wanted to come out of the closet right then and there, there was no good reason not to go with Makoto.  
  
"Where do we go first?" she asked, stepping out form under his arm. He ignroed the move and thought about the question for a moment.  
  
"Do you like okonomiyaki?"


	6. Chinese Kiddies

Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma ½.

Goro peered under the bushes by the koi pond, grimacing in frustration. How many different places could a little black piglet go?

"Excuse," someone said behind him. He rolled into a sitting position, turning baleful eyes on the intruder. She was older than he, but just how much older he couldn't be sure. Maybe a college student or something. A real babe, however old she was, with purple hair floating around her tiny waist.

"Can I. . . help you?" he asked. She grinned at him, shyly.

"Makoto?" she asked. "You much bigger than I remember, much much!" she said finally, throwing her arms around his neck. He sat frozen for a moment, unsure what to do.

"Ummmmm who . . . . who are you, miss?" he asked. She drew back and smiled radiantly at him, wiping tears from her eyes.

"You no remember me, but I knew you when you were baby. Shampoo," she said, sticking out her hand to shake his and giggling a little. "Where brother Mocchio?"

"Um, actually. . . I'm not Makoto. Or Mocchio," he added, just for clarification. "I'm Goro. The twins will be back shortly."

"Oh. Ranma and Akane have other children?" she asked, curious and completely unapologetic for mistaking him. He nodded, grinning sheepishly.

"Yeah, but I'm not one of them. Just a disciple. Who are you? An old babysitter or something?" he asked.

"Sort of," she grimaced. A tall man with long black hair and glasses stepped around the corner, followed by a small herd of purple-haired girls wearing big coke-bottle glasses, just like his.

"Shampoo? Do they still live here?" he asked, in only slightly accented Japanese. The little girls glared silently at Goro, their hands tucked into the flowing sleeves of their robes. It looked like a small circus.

"I think so. Do Ranma and Akane still live here?" she asked Goro. He nodded, mutely. She stood, and gestured in his direction. "This Goro, he study Ranma fighting techniques. Goro, this is my husband Mousse, and my daughters."

"Hey, there," Mousse said, flippantly. "Well, honey, I guess we should wait for them. Girls, go sit in the dojo, and warm up a bit. Ranma's kids might want to spar when they get home."

"Oh, fine," the biggest girl said, huffily. Goro stared at her. She looked about fourteen, she was certainly too old to belong to these people. Wasn't she? Was this some sort of trick? Neither of the so-called parents looked old enough to have kids at all.

Much less five of them.

Goro was beginning to think, Ayame or no Ayame, that it might be a good idea to find a new dojo.

"Shall we get some refreshments?" he asked, mostly because they were staring at him expectantly. They nodded, and on the way in he asked, "Out of curiosity, what are you folks here to see Ranma about?"

"Oh, nothing. Oldest daughter want to get married, but she already married. Come see what Ranma have say about it."

"Why. . . why would Ranma have anything to say about it?"

"She married to his son. Besides, is good to visit old friends, yes?"

"I bet Ucchan gives us a discount, since it's our first date. The first of many, I hope!" Makoto grinned widely at her, his face brighter and happier than she'd ever seen it.

She was going to be sick.

"Come on, Koemi, smile for me! You're so quiet," he coaxed, taking her hand. She slipped out of his grasp, clasping her hands together in front of her to prevent any further attempts at touching her. "Hey, I know a story that will make you smile. Once there was a cute little dog, with a cute little bow, and he had a cute little smile. . ."

"Hey, look, isn't that the pig you were fighting with earlier?" she asked, hoping to distract him from his vain attempts at cheering her up. She wasn't making it up, though, there he was—a little black piglet trotting along in front of them, fairly content and happy. She rushed forward and scooped it up, cradling it in her arms. The pig protested for a moment, but she fixed it with such a piercing glare that it fell silent immediately.

"Huh. I guess ol' Ryouga likes you, Koemi," Makoto said, coming up behind her. "Let's take him to Ucchan's with us and get him some hot water."

"Yeah," she muttered, walking briskly. He followed, no longer trying to talk to her. Good, because the sound of his voice was giving her a headache.

"Come on in!" Ukyou called out as they entered her shop. She saw the little pig in Koemi's arms and smiled, knowingly.

"Had a bit of an accident, did we? I'll set him right. Go on and take your lady friend to booth seven Makoto, and I'll be with you in a second. Mind the customers, too, make sure no one leaves without paying while I'm gone," she instructed, plucking Ryouga out of the tiny girl's arms and taking him into the back rooms above her shop.

She turned on the hot water in her furo, waiting until it steamed before holding Ryouga—who was now frantically wiggling to get away from her—under it.

"Holy hell, Ukyou, that was too HOT!" he growled, backing out of the stream of water and not noticing, apparently, that he was completely naked. "God, that was scary! The Kuno girl looked at me and I just KNEW she was going to start putting bows on me like Azusa used to and. . . GAH! I'm NAKED!" he cried. Ukyou giggled, then got herself under control and gave him a hard, cold stare.

"Act your age, Ryouga, it's not like I've never seen a naked man before. Keep it down or you'll freak my customers out," she admonished. He turned bright scarlet and tried to cover several key bits of his anatomy at once.

"Okay, Ukyou, I'll. . .. just. . . um . . . could you stop staring at me and go get me some clothing before I die of mortification?" he asked, curling into a little ball. She ducked her head to hide a smile and did as he requested, bringing him some of her looser men's wear.

She was feeling particularly nice, so she even left while he got dressed.

"Um, Ukyou?" he asked her, coming out of the bathroom after what seemed like eternity. She gave him the same cold, hard look, but he continued anyway. "You said you'd seen naked men before, but you'd never been married?"

"I don't see how this is any of your business," she informed him, and started down the stairs. After a few seconds, she could hear him following her, his steps heavy on the wooden steps.

I'm sorry this is so short, I really am, I would like to write more. But I'm sort of floundering in the world of writing stuff, and I don't know how to stop floundering. Call it writer's block, except I can get started just fine. . . it's continuing that I have trouble with.

I apologize, and there will be more later.


	7. Awww, They're Bickering

Disclaimer: You know very well who I own and who I don't own.

Chapter 7 (isn't it?)

Yizume Roka was not a man who believed in lying.

He had been raised a priest, groomed to take hold of the magical treasures the world had to offer. Starting, of course, with a mystical sword that would grant the user three wishes. His death had begun the day Tatewaki Kuno, only seventeen years old, had taken the sword from the shrine where it was kept. He'd been there, he'd seen the arrogance on the man's face.

Kuno had been given the world—the world HE, Yizume Roka, was supposed to be given. And he squandered it. He was given power after power, and all of these he squandered, lost. Enchanted eggs, magical swords, everything. And after years of searching for the other artifacts, Roka had come to a shocking realization.

Everything Kuno did not take, his compatriots took. A group of CHILDREN living in a suburb of Tokyo had, nearly twenty years ago, almost drained the Eastern Hemisphere of its magic. Togenkyo, Jusendo, Jusenkyo, and all the treasures and artifacts to be found therein—they even got to the Amazons.

Of course, they were no longer children. They were old now, almost as old as him, and they had children of their own. And he knew, from experience, that the best way to strike at someone is to strike at their children. It had happened to him once, years before, when the shrine where he was living was attacked by bandits.

If he had possessed the magic at that point that he would have naturally accumulated, without the interference of the Nerimans, he could have saved them.

His search was almost over, he'd infiltrated the Kuno residence, he'd convinced the idiotic Tatewaki that he was in fact an old friend of Kodachi's. Now all that was required was patience. His chance would come. Soon. Very soon.

(Nerima Wrecking Crew)

"Koemi-chan, open wide!" Makoto smiled, holding out a bite of okonomiyaki to her. Her nose wrinkled up, and she stared at his outstretched hand with it's stained chopsticks in distaste.

"I have to. . . um . . . go to the bathroom," she muttered, and fled. Makoto watched her leave, his eyes completely vacant of any thought.

Ryouga and Ukyou exchanged a knowing glance. She gestured toward the table where the blue-haired young man was sitting. Resigned, Ryouga sighed and slid in next to Makoto.

"Hey there, Romeo," he said. Makoto blinked at him, obviously unaware that he'd sat down at the booth.

"Ryouga-san. When did you get to Ucchan's?" he asked. Ryouga decided not to comment. It was no fair to tease a man so obviously gone over a girl. Had he ever been so young?

"Listen, Makoto, you obviously like this Koemi girl a lot," Ryouga started. Makoto sighed, dreamily.

"Yeah. Isn't she just great?" he asked. Ryouga resisted the impulse to beat Makoto's head into a wall until the infatuation bled out of him.

"Yeah, a real peach of a girl. Listen, you're going to make her retch if you keep that up. In fact, I think you already have. I know you've made the rest of us here in the restaurant sick to our stomachs."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying, ease up. Stop trying to feed her. Just. . . talk to her and stuff, okay? You're making the rest of us lose our appetites," Ryouga sighed, getting up. He cleared the booth just before Koemi came back.

"You okay?" Makoto asked, his eyes full of actual awareness again. Thank goodness for small miracles. Koemi nodded, and looked relieved when he began talking to her about school, and plans for the summer.

"Say, Ryouga," Ukyou said, watching her former compatriot out of the corner of her eye. He gave her a fanged smile. "I seem to recall you being the most clueless boy ever born, when it came to dates. Since when does your brain work?"

"I was NOT clueless," Ryouga insisted, leaning on her counter. She flipped the okonomiyaki she'd been working on.

"Reeeeally. I seem to recall a certain young man wearing a yellow bandanna sitting in that very same seat, eating a cup because he was so nervous about his date."

"When was that?" Ryouga asked, genuine puzzlement on his face. Ukyou rolled her eyes.

"Let me paint the picture for you. You sat there, Akane sat next to you, all decked out in her martial arts gi—honestly, what you boys saw in her, I'll never understandand you began crushing one of your cups and eating it. And saying it was the most delicious thing you'd ever tasted."

"Come to think of it. . . wow, and I thought you'd just burned the okonomiyaki to a crisp," he said, thoughtfully. Quite suddenly, he found his brains being forcibly rearranged in his head, courtesy of Ukyou's giant spatula.

"I do NOT burn food," she grated. He rubbed the lump growing on his head, and grimaced.

"Okay, okay. Sheesh. I can't believe you still carry that thing. It's been, what, eighteen years? Twenty?"

"I can't believe you still insult me while I'm holding it. You'd think after a few decades even the most lost of boys would find some sense."

(Nerima Wrecking Crew, eating candy)

Takeo didn't go into the house when he first got home. He'd had a really, really bad day—math test—and he wanted to work out in the dojo before facing his mother's questions about school. So, as quietly as possible, he snuck around back and into the dojo.

But when he got there, it wasn't empty.

Five girls, his age and older, were going through a kata in perfect unison. They all had the same purple hair, the same coke-bottle glasses, and the same long, flowing white robes. As one, they turned to look at him, breaking out of their kata.

"What the hell is this, Children of the Corn?" he asked. As one, they all narrowed their dark green eyes at him. He took a half-step backward.

"You're the son of Ranma Saotome?" the biggest one asked. He nodded. "Then get in here and fight me, we've got a score to settle before our meddling parents interfere."

(Nerima Wrecking Crew, did you know they have green tea candy in Japan? Gross)

"Wow. So you guys are Amazons, huh?" Goro asked, taking a sip of green tea. Both Shampoo and Mousse nodded, mutely. "And your daughter is married to one of the twins, because he beat her in combat?"

"The last time we were in Japan visiting," Mousse smiled. "It was so sweet, the kids all fighting in the yard. As I remember, little Ayame was quite the firecracker back then. She was only six, but she had a temper even worse than her mother's."

"Which is big, big statement," Shampoo giggled. Goro eyed her suspiciously. She wasn't. . . no WAY that woman gave birth to five kids. No way. No chance in hell.

"The twins didn't really want to fight our girls, because they were so much younger. Li Wei, the oldest, was only four or so at the time. But Makoto beat her, fair and square," Mousse said, with a grudging sort of respect that Goro, not knowing the history of the two people in front of him, did not quite understand.

"So Makoto is engaged to Li Wei?" Goro asked, thinking back on what he'd been told thus far. Shampoo shook her head.

"No, is married. Is sacred Amazon law."

Before Goro could question that further, the door opened and three laughing people trekked through the door.

"So he never figured out that your girl side is you? Unbelievable!" Ayame's voice rang out. Shampoo and Mousse grinned at each other.

"Wo juen tamen meimei hen piaoliang," Shampoo murmured. Mousse smiled softly at herthe kind of smile that made Goro feel like an intruder onto the scene.

"Ni tai piaoliang, Shampoo," he whispered. Shampoo blushed.

"Wo ai ni," she whispered, and they both stood to go greet the Saotome's.

(Nerima Wrecking Crew, can you imagine eating a freaking green tea lollypop? And yes, that was Chinese. So ha.)

"Mocchio, will you please make sure Yori gets home? She has her father's sense of direction," Dr. Tofu smiled, patting his nephew on the shoulder. Mocchio nodded, sullenly. Kasumi gave Yori a big hug before turning her in the direction of the door.

"All right now, Yori-chan, you come back tomorrow and we'll have some more cooking lessons, all right?" she said. Yori nodded happily. Kasumi turned her angelic smile on Mocchio, "And you'll bring her back tomorrow, won't you, nephew? I'd love to see more of you this summer."

"If you want, Aunt Kasumi," the defeated martial artist said, softly. He turned to go. "Come on, Goliath, we'd better get started home."

"Now, Mocchio, you can be civil. Go on ahead, I'd like to talk to Yori for a minute," Dr. Tofu scolded, before Yori could even open her mouth to reply. Mocchio glowered at his uncle, but he went. As soon as the blue-haired boy was out of earshot, Dr. Tofu turned to Yori.

"I know he's cruel now, but he's not always like that," he offered, in apology. "He's just scared."

"And he should be. I can whip his butt six ways from Sunday," Yori grinned. Dr. Tofu shook his head.

"Not that kind of scared. Give him a bit of a chance, and he'll come around," he said, tapping her on the lower back before showing her to the door.

"Tofu, darling, I don't think that will work," Kasumi whispered to her husband, as they watched the two children bicker all the way down the sidewalk. "What if he leaves her behind when she can't walk?"

"I ought to have known you'd see that," Tofu smiled, a little sheepishly. "You're too smart for me, darling."

"What if he leaves her behind?" she pressed. He shook his head.

"He won't. As soon as that pressure point goes into effect and she's helpless, he'll start showing his true colors. Trust me. It worked on your sister and Ranma."

"When did you use it on them, dear?" Kasumi asked, obviously not convinced.

"Why, just a few weeks after Ranma arrived," Dr. Tofu answered.

"And when did they finally come to an understanding?"

"I think I see your point."

(Nerima Wrecking Crew)

I'm so sorry it took so long, I have been extremely busy. In fact, in order to get this out, I have been neglecting several important tasks. But, I thought it was time. The Amazon girls will have normal Chinese names—I'm sorry about that, but it just didn't feel right the other way. So. And Yizume Roka. . . you thought I forgot about him, didn't you? It was tempting to pretend I'd never let him into the picture, but I figured I'd written him in already, and I might as well. . . stay tuned for the beautiful WAFF that is to come!

Oh, by the way, the Chinese meant : I bet their little sister is pretty.

You're too pretty, Shampoo.

I love you.

Isn't college wonderful?


End file.
